


Come Back Home To Me (My Life Just Isn't What It Used To Be)

by ohioinmymind



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Stiles and Derek bromance of epic proportions, also Stiles and Erica bromance, how awesome is that, oh and Stiles and Allison are brother and sister, twins even
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 02:56:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohioinmymind/pseuds/ohioinmymind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek have been attached at the hip since they were five years old, but they're not five anymore, and things are starting to get a lot more complicated. So Derek sleeps with everyone with a pulse and Stiles gets a pretend-boyfriend with his own set of issues when he realizes he does have more than friendly feelings for Derek. When Derek's current girlfriend seems a little more permanent than the last, will Stiles come clean? Or is he going to be miserable and standing in Derek's shadow forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! I have 35K+ of this written, just have another 15K+ to go. Just wanted to share what I've been working on, and what's been holding me up for the update of Now I See Your Heart's Been Taken. I hope you guys enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Tell me what you think, be gentle, please. Con crit is welcome. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, sans the ones I created that will be seen later on down the line.
> 
> [](http://s1130.beta.photobucket.com/user/mckaylaaxo/media/collagecomebackhome_zpse6a15c1f-1_zpsce11bb9b.jpg.html)  
> 

 Stiles needed Erica and Derek to stop having sex like, yesterday.

Seriously, the ' _oh Derek_ ' and the ' _fuck, fuck, yeeeees_ ', those could stop now.

Stiles didn't have a problem with Erica. Stiles actually loved Erica. She was nice, to him at least. She did have a thing for punching Scott in the gut when he made crude jokes involving her and Derek's sexual habits and the mating cycle of rabbits. But that was probably justified.

Erica was funny, hilarious even, she'd had him rolling for hours, okay maybe that's an exaggeration, but there was that one time with the joke about Derek's eyebrows that did have him on the floor. So there's that.

Stiles' sister, Allison, didn't like Erica. Couldn't stand to be around her to save her life. Stiles thinks there might have been an incident in high school that included Scott and a PMS Jealousy Rage between both girls, but apparently Erica developed better taste, because now she was dating (read: having wild animal sex with) Derek. And Derek was noticeably hotter than Scott. Derek was hotter than the freaking sun. Derek was just hot. Not that Scott wasn't, but oh man, _Derek_.

Derek and Stiles had a very intricate friendship, Allison called it complicated, Scott found it weird, and Lydia thought they were co-dependent. Isaac didn't really comment on Derek and Stiles' relationship because his mother once told him that if he couldn't muster up anything nice to say, to not say anything at all.

Stiles didn't see any problems. He and Derek were close, so what? They grew up together, their dad's watching ESPN after work and throwing back a couple of beers. And their mothers gossiping in the kitchen and sharing old family recipes between re-runs of Grey's Anatomy. His sister liked to play with Laura, even though she was several years older. Allison served as Laura's real live dress-up doll for too many years to count, so everyone was happy.

Stiles doesn't remember his first impression of Derek, but his mother assures him it was a hilarious one. According to his mother, Stiles had followed Derek around, his blankie trailing behind him, until Derek got annoyed enough to throw whatever his little hands could find at Stiles' head. Instead of crying and leaving him alone like Derek had hoped for, Stiles laughed and laughed and threw everything right back at a very surprised, off-guard Derek.

It was history after that, and it bleeds into memories that Stiles does remember. They would watch Spongebob every afternoon after school and daycare let out, until Stiles pulled down his pants and shook his butt at his kindergarten graduation. Stiles thinks Derek might still be bitter from being banned from his favorite television show, but who knows.

There were sleepovers, but the only one Stiles remembers is the one year that Derek started waking up with awkward boners and Stiles thought it was the funniest thing to happen in the existance of humankind, until a year later he woke up with his own and it was Derek's turn to laugh.

Derek's uncle Peter introduced Stiles to the wonderful world of reading when he placed a Berenstain Bears book in Stiles hands one night before bed time. It was one of his parents date nights, and Stiles was sleeping in Derek's room, as per usual, because he had a huge bed, and Stiles' neck always hurt when he slept on the floor. But Derek, Allison and Laura had fallen asleep during The Lion King, right before Simba and Nala started making the baby for the sequel. That was totally something Stiles didn't understand until he was a senior in high school, and way to old to be watching Disney movies.

Peter was on babysitting duty, so it was his job to make sure all the kids were tucked in nice and safe. Stiles couldn't quite fall asleep, and he didn't like bed time stories. How good could they be if they were supposed to put you to sleep? Peter's plan to lull Stiles into La La Land with a selection of the most boring books he could find had back fired when Stiles saw the cover of The Berenstain Bears and the Truth. He told Peter he wanted him to read that one, and Peter obliged.

Therein started Stiles' obsession with books. Novels. Short stories. Magazines, even though Derek gave him shit for it. What? He wanted to be updated. Kim and Kanye were having a _baby_ , that's news, man. Who doesn't love Kimye. Maybe that's over exaggeration, maybe it isn't. Stiles will never tell.

Derek took to snapping photographs the way that Stiles took to turning pages. Stiles couldn't count how many times he'd batted Derek's camera out of his face early in the morning when he was just waking up or late in the afternoon when he was trying to catch the last rays of sunlight in the kitchen so he could finish a certain chapter. Stiles was certain there might have been a few accidentally-on-purpose naked photos in there because Derek was an asshole who liked to scare Stiles when he was getting out of the shower. But overall Derek was really good at what he did and Stiles enjoyed seeing Derek do something that he loved.

Their combined love of the arts landed them both more than several prestigious scholarship offers, some schools matching up and others not. It was already set in stone that they would attend college together. It wasn't an option not to. So they chose a small but respected school half an hour from their hometown and Derek suffered through his first year of college partially by himself when he wasn't driving home to see his family or Stiles. And Stiles joined soon after, settling into his new apartment with Derek and hunkering down for the college load.

The apartment was nice. It was small, but it was only a two bedroom, and they didn't need a lot of space to begin with. Stiles had spent some time there the previous year, when Derek had lived in it himself and used the extra bedroom as a place to cram before tests.

Considering Stiles was a natural spazz and Derek was calm and collected, one would think that Derek ran around cleaning up Stiles' messes, but that wasn't the case. Derek was a total pig when it came to housework. He left his lenses lying everywhere and Stiles would never know how he got anything done because his work area was a wreck. He left his freakishly sweaty gym clothes lying wherever he took them off at; which was either the front door as soon as he walked in or kitchen where he stopped to get a bottle of water.

They worked out the kinks eventually, discovering that being at each other's house all hours of the day was completely different than living with someone, and they learned to deal with one another.

The apartment was nice and quiet, or it used to be until about seven months ago.

Stiles had went to Texas with his parents and his sister for a couple weeks in the summer to visit his grandparents, and reluctantly left Derek behind to pick up extra shifts at The Corner Coffee Shop, (yes that was the name, original right?) because Stiles' mom insisted that they were both grown men and it wouldn't kill them to be apart for a while. Except it did.

At first Stiles called Derek at minimum twice a day before Derek told him to stop calling and enjoy his time. But Stiles ignored him, because what did Derek know? By the end of the first week, he had reduced his calling to texting. It was a more frequent affair, but it didn't take up as much time and Stiles could still enjoy and participate in family activities.

Once he settled down, he started enjoying himself. It had been a while since he spent some quality time with his mom and dad, and he really did miss hanging out with Allison all the time.

"So how's living with the boyfriend," she had asked.

Okay, maybe he didn't miss her that much.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you, Allicat, Derek's not my boyfriend."

Allison smirked and Stiles poked her in the dimple.

"Who said I was talking about Derek?"

When did his twin become such a clever little brat? Where had Stiles been when this happened?

"Something you need to tell us, son," his dad chimed in.

"Not you too, dad."

His mother was sitting on a wicker rocking chair, her knees tucked underneath her, a pair of knitting needles in her hands.

"That Derek is a fine young man. When you came out Stacia and I were sure you two would end up together. That boy looks at you like you hung the stars and the moon."

"Mom, I did hang the moon. And the stars. All the glow-in-the-dark ceiling stickers are credit to one Stiles Stilinski. He better look at me appreciatively, I broke my arm putting those up."

Allison punched him in the shoulder. "You did not break your arm, doofus, you twisted your wrist. And you know what she meant."

"They're equally as traumatic, Ally," he sighed. " But Derek and I? We're just friends. Really good friends, but just friends."

"I don't cuddle on the couch with my friends, baby bro."

"No, you just _sleep_ with mine. And it's a five second difference, Allison, let it go!"

" _Stiles_."

"It was seventeen minutes."

"It was not!"

"Was too."

"Was no—"

"Children."

Other than the occasional bickering, Stiles had let loose in Texas, no pun intended. His family decided to stay through June and into early July and by the third week, Stiles could say that he didn't even mind. He talked to Derek nonstop and they Skyped when Stiles and Allison crept in just before one or two in the morning.

Stiles was a lot more at ease now that he knew Derek had taken some time off of work for himself. He had talked about going to San Francisco just to shoot some new scenery and Stiles was envious, but also glad that Derek was doing something he wanted for a change, even if it was without Stiles.

The night before the Fourth of July, Stiles' mood took a nose-dive. Scott was on his way from his and Allison's swanky college co-ed dorms. He was on his way. Here. To Texas. From California. And Derek was in San Francisco. It _sucked_.

Stiles loved Scott, he did. They had been friends since middle school, best friends with all the time he was over visiting Stiles' sister. Regardless of how close Scott and Stiles were, Scott was coming down here to see Allison. If he saw Stiles in passing, awesome, but he wanted to see his girlfriend. Stiles just wanted to hang out with Derek.

So Stiles went out, ignoring Allison's protests to wait until Scott arrived. He didn't really want to see Allison reunite with her boyfriend after three weeks apart. He cruised in their parents rental car, looking for some excitement in good ol' Austin, Texas. He thought it might be difficult to find anything that would fit his tastes with Texas being as conservative as it was. But just before he called off his search he stumbled onto Oilcan Harry's. Yes, that was a club. Wow.

The fairly short line of what appeared to be women with broad shoulders and masculinity toned calf muscles and men with spiked hair and skin tight jeans corralled in with a bunch of regular Joe's set off Stiles' radar. He parked and texted Allison his location, because his phone had a dangerously low battery.

Once inside, Stiles scoped the scene, but didn't see anyone that really caught his eye. It was more crowded than Stiles thought it would be, but it was a nice surprise, so Stiles set up shop at the bar and ordered as many drinks with weird names that he could afford.

After two Blue Balls, four Leg Spreaders and an awkward swig of Butt Sex, Stiles had found someone to dance with. Stiles didn't have enough drinks to knock a normal person's inhibitions out of their body, but Stiles was a notorious lightweight. All he knew about the guy was that he had nice arms, hair long enough to pull and Stiles wasn't sure if the guy had a cell phone in his pocket, or if he was happy to see him. He didn't care. He ground his ass back into that man's hips, not caring if he was moving along with the beat, just going wild.

Stiles was clumsy as all hell, but he had an uncanny ability to dance when he was wasted. That being said, he was a little more that wasted, and he didn't even care if this counted as dancing. When the guy slipped his hands under the waistband of Stiles boxers and hastily rubbed his fingers back and forth over Stiles' hipbones, he just lost it.

Stiles drew him in for a kiss, as best as he could with the angle. It was more of a pressing of lips than a kiss. When he opened his mouth for Stiles, Stiles bit at his lip and pulled, sucking the other man's groan into his own mouth. Stiles wound his hands up behind his head, behind the guy's neck and yanked at the hair near the nape of his neck.

Stiles was just going with it, letting his face go, and turning his head around to just keep dancing. He didn't want to feel anything, he just _wanted_. He closed his eyes and just moved. It wasn't until the man whispered in his ear "I'm sorry, I didn't know you had a boyfriend," that Stiles was aware that the dancing was over.

"What?" Stiles had said after he spent too much time regaining his footing. But he was already gone, swept up in the crowd, and Stiles was alone and too drunk to try and find somebody else.

"What?!" he repeated, not in anyone to particular.

All's well, Stiles thought, he needed to get home anyhow. He wasn't sure what time it was, Stiles had left around ten and his phone was dead and the crowd at the club was thinning, so Stiles assumed it was time to get home. He'd missed his New Year's Eve kiss, but he didn't really care at this point.

He didn't want to drive, and his phone was dead. He knew he could call Allison and she wouldn't mind picking him up. But he didn't want to screw up her time with Scott just because he was lonely. He went to a payphone that was just around the corner from the club and dialed her anyways, because she was his big sister, as she so liked to point out, and this is what big sisters were for. Picking up their depressed and sexually frustrated little brothers from gay bars in wee hours of the night.

She brought Scott with her and he followed them to their grandparents house in Stiles' parent's rental car. Allison was silent, which wasn't unusual, but she never passed up a chance to give Stiles an extra ribbing. Stiles was glad for the silence though and he rested his head against the window and fell asleep, only waking for a few short moments to walk inside and pass out.

Derek didn't talk to Stiles for two weeks after that. He woke up with 17 missed calls and a couple of texts from Derek asking him why he wasn't answering. At first Stiles thought that Derek just wanted to talk to him before driving back to Beacon Hills or something. Even though he was supposed to be in San Francisco to watch fireworks at The Bay. But when Stiles returned home and there was no sign of Derek, he knew something had gone wrong.

He had panicked and dialed Stacia who had guaranteed Stiles that Derek was fine, still in San Francisco, but apparently he just wasn't answering Stiles' calls.

Stiles was more than pissed off and when Derek had returned later that week with Erica Reyes in tow, spouting off bullshit lies about always just missing Stiles' calls. He know Stiles wouldn't call him out on his shit in front of company that he hadn't seen since high school.

He blurted out something along the lines of ' _how did you meet_ ' and ' _when did you go from lusting after one of my friends to screwing another_ '. Well, it wasn't quite that harsh, but Derek still winced at the question, so Stiles counted it as a win.

"I was in town for the weekend of the Fourth of July. I ran into Derek, we got to talking. Boy meets girl... Do I really need to explain it to you?" Erica put her hand on her hip, signaling that she wasn't up for any of the sass that Stiles had planned on throwing her way. Stiles knew then that it would be hard not to like her.

"Derek wasn't in town for the Fourth of July, he would have told me."

The awkward shirt in the room was enough to tell Stiles that he had been wrong, and Derek was here. And he didn't tell Stiles.

"You know how our— _my_ family, can be. They love any kind of holiday. I came and met Erica, and went right back. It was beautiful, Stiles. It was—."

"Did you take pictures of the fireworks?"

"I was just so caught up in it, I didn't take the time."

"You're so full of shit."

Stiles didn't know what Derek said after that. And because Stiles liked to behave like a child sometimes, he went to his room and slammed the door, knowing it would piss Derek off because he had frame art in the hallway that was in danger of falling every time Stiles shut his bedroom door too hard.

" _Dammit Stiles_!"

Stiles fell asleep in the middle of the afternoon with a grin on his face, and only a little bit of stinging in his heart.

 

  


/////

 

 Stiles sure wishes he could sleep now.

He and Derek had patched things up since then, and things were back to normal. There had been an unmanly amount of crying on Stiles' part and a plethora of cuddling an Derek's, but all was well.

As well as things could be with Derek and Erica making obscene amounts of noise the next room over.

"Derek, Derek. Derek!"

"CAN YOU PLEASE SHUT UP?!"

"Fuck you!"

Stiles wasn't sure who was responsible for the retort, and that would have been worrisome had it not been for the fact that Erica developed an unusually deep voice when she was, you know, _doing_ stuff.

When Derek bellowed, he decided it was time to go. That was the only word for it, Stiles swears. He _bellowed_. There were some things you didn't need to know about your best friend. His suspicions were correct when he heard giggling and a heavy thump. They were about to go at it again, and Stiles wanted no part of it. His ears would thank him. His _soul_ would thank him. 

He gathered up his trusty laptop and charger and snagged his keys from the mantle in the living room.

"I'm going to Allison's, you freaks!"

"Bye, babe!"

"Do not call me that when you're with another woman, asshole."

"You know you're the only one for me!"

"Tell that to your headboard, Derek. That headboard could tell some stories."

"Pick up something on your way home!"

"I'm not your maid."

"I want Taco Bell."

" _Fuck you._ "

"You'll have to take a number, Stiles!" Erica followed with a giggle.

"You guys make me sick. Bye!"

When Stiles was finally out of the house, he dialed Allison. Hopefully she and Scott weren't doing the same dirty deed.

"Hey, Chickenbutt. What's up?"

Stiles sighed, "Always nice talking to you, sister of mine." He started his Jeep, backing out of the driveway. "Can I come over?"

"Are Derek and Erica at it again?"

"You know it."

"Come on over. My room mate is gone for the weekend, you're in luck."

Success. "Is Scott there?" He wouldn't mind if Scott was there, because even when Scott and Allison got around to it, they were never as bad as his current house mates.

"He's on his way with Isaac, we were going to have a movie night, so you're in luck."

He turned down the street that held campus housing, that was surprisingly close to his and Derek's place.

"You know, some day you're going to stop trying to hook me up with Isaac."

"What? That is so not what I am doing."

Her voice was saying no, but Stiles could practically hear her smirking over the phone.

"I can see Scott's car, Allicat. He hasn't even left yet."

"Dammit," she mumbled under her breath. "Scott, why are you still here?"

He heard a slightly muted response in the background.

"I couldn't find my other shoe, Allison!"

He heard Allison utter something under her breath and Stiles just laughed.

"Not as sneaky as you _thiiiink_ you are."

"Shut up, I hate you."

"Love you too, sis."

 

  


/////

 

Watching movies at Allison's had been fun, not as awkward as the planned it to be. He and Isaac brushed off all of Scott and Allison's efforts to push them together. There had been some awkward sex and dating between the two ages ago, but they reverted right back to being good friends, and nothing ever progressed since then. Isaac had just gotten out of a relationship with Danny, who Stiles sincerely hoped he got back together with. Not because he was tired of being maneuvered into situations with Isaac, but because he though Isaac and Danny were a great couple.

Stiles pulls back into the driveway and sees Erica's car is still parked at the curb. He feels something turn over deep inside his stomach and he can't help but remember his and Allison's conversation at the kitchenette.

"You know, if you stopped being so jealous of her, you might actually like her."

"Says the person who poured red soda on her suede shoes in high school for flirting with her boyfriend."

Allison didn't have the slightest dignity to look a tad bashful.

"I did her a favor, those shoes weren't cute. Also, I heard no denying."

Stiles handed her a slice of Pepperoni that he had already picked the cheese off of, because she liked cheese pizza and Scott like pepperoni, and this was the easiest solution with out ordering separate pizzas altogether.

"Deny what? Being jealous of her? I'm not jealous of her. Why would I be jealous of her?"

"Her perfect breasts, obviously." Allison smiled at Stiles, handing him a coke from the fridge.

Stiles rolled his eyes. " _Obviously._ "

She sat down on the couch, wedging herself in between Scott and the arm of furniture, and patted her knee, signaling Stiles to sit on the floor and rest on her legs.

"No, but really, Stiles. You're not used to sharing his attention with other people."

"He's had plenty of girlfriends, Ally. And boyfriends."

Scott spoke around a mouthful of pizza. "But it's Chritmas break and she's over there like, every day, man. And she eats all the Poptarts. There are never any Poptarts when I go over there. That isn't right."

Allison smiled at Scott, her face dimpling. Her face dimpled when she did anything really. That's why Stiles could never take her seriously when she smiled. Those dimples, dude.

"Honey, you do realize you can buy your own Poptarts, right?"

Isaac spoke up from the other side of Scott.

"It's common courtesy to have Poptarts to offer. Everyone knows that."

Stiles laughed at their antics, they really were a fun group, and Stiles should start hanging out with them more.

"She also eats all the Pizza Rolls."

"No way?!"

"Not cool, man."

"Okay, I agree. Something needs to be done about that."

Stiles had wholeheartedly agreed, Pizza Rolls were sacred.

That left him outside his apartment, wringing his hands under the steering wheel. To go in, or not to go in? That was the question.

Screw it, this was Stiles' home too, they could just go to Erica's dorm and have sex. Who cares that her dorm was three hours away? Stiles didn't.

He tried to be discreet as he came in, but Derek was bumming on the living room couch when he walked through the door.

"Honey, you're home," he mouthed around the food in his mouth.

"You're so disgusting," he snorted.

Erica was in the kitchen cooking something that smelled like it would taste delicious. She normally couldn't prepare anything that Stiles deemed edible, but he had high hopes for whatever was wafting throughout the house.

"Have fun with Ally? What are you doing, come here." Derek drew Stiles from his place on the opposite end of the couch and closer towards him. He thinks he was supposed to end up beside Derek, but he ended up half of top of him, and Derek manhandled Stiles' chest across his lap and pushed a bowl of trail mix in his hands.

Stiles deadpanned. "I love it when you do that, I really do."

"Shut up and try this, Erica made it."

Stiles scrunched his face in dubious concern for his health and his taste palette.

"Don't make that face, it's good."

"You'll eat anything that won't eat you first, Derek."

Derek smiled around a full mouth, no doubt making Stiles' comment into a crude joke.

"You bet I will."

"Why am I friends with you," Stiles questioned as he cautiously swallowed a handful of exceptionally decent chex mix.

Derek flicked the end of Stiles' nose, knowing it would agitate Stiles to no end.

"'Cause you love me, brother bear."

"I haven't picked up a Berenstein Bears book in years, Der-Bear."

"Liar, I saw one in your nightstand the other day. You even had a book mark in it. How cute."

"Ran out of condoms again?"

"You know me so well."

"Too well."

They sat in relative silence as Erica finished making dinner. Sties had long ago put the snack bowl on the carpet floor and readjusted himself on Derek. Derek was sitting up with Stiles' head in his lap, combing through his hair and playing with his ears, which was a weird thing for Stiles. He for all intents and purposes purred as Derek worried his lobe with his thumb and fore finger. What, everyone had their kinks, okay?

Stiles was about to doze off half watching an old Buffy episode when Erica called them into the kitchen. She baked a chicken Parmesan casserole that Stiles praised her for. He felt bad for being such a douche bag earlier when she slaved over the stove and made him a meal, so he told her he would do the dishes after they finished eating. And that was as courteous as it got because Stiles hated dishes with an intense passion.

His hands were delicate things and he didn't look good with dishpan hands. No one looked good with dishpan hands. Not even Derek. Okay, maybe Derek.

Erica was in one of Derek's shirts and a pair of indecently short shorts. If Stiles hadn't walked in on her and Derek more times than he'd care to think about, he might have been offended.

"How's the happy couple? Still in the honeymoon phase?"

Stiles knew Erica was just trying to make conversation, but it was a touchy subject for her. Allison may have forgiven Erica for trying to get all up in her and Scott's business in high school, but that was still Stiles' sister and it was always a difficult card to play. Stiles remembers Allison crying until she ran out of tears and Scott not understanding what was going on, which wasn't abnormal. It was just a weird way to start off a discussion with your present boyfriend sitting across the table from you.

"Um, well. They're doing well. Great! Great actually. Awesome." By the looks he got from both pairs of eyes, Stiles could tell he was nervous rambling. "It's not really a honeymoon phase anymore, they've been dating for like, five years. Or something.

"Hm, just asking." She chewed her food and remained quiet.

"What'd you guys watch?"

"Iron Man."

Derek snorted, "Surprise, surprise."

Stiles kicked him under the table and just kept his foot there when Derek wrapped both of his legs around Stiles'.

"I'll have you know Isaac picked it out, fuck you very much."

Erica piped up, "I doubt you put up much of a struggle. I saw the posters in your room."

" _Ahem_ , has anyone here heard of this new discovery called privacy? And if I'm going to lust after older man, Robert Downey Jr. is the perfect candidate."

Erica raised her hands in surrender. "No arguments here, I'd tap that."

"I can toast to that." Derek raised his beer bottle and clanked it with Erica's shot glass and Stiles's cup of milk.

What, milk grew strong bones. Nothing wrong with that.

 

  


/////

 

Erica left a little past midnight and Stiles was actually sorry to see her go. She was fun when she wasn't howling his best friend's name at the moon. She rocked at chess, which was a godsend because Stiles got tired of beating Derek. Really, it was as embarrassing for Stiles to win as it was for Derek to lose.

She let him keep the left over chicken parm and Stiles had to stop himself from bowing to the floor and worshiping at her feet. Erica'd made a batch large enough to fill the both of them for the next couple of days, and it was an unblemished arrangement as long as Stiles didn't have to cook for a while.

He hugged her on her way out of the house.

"Aw, he is a real boy! I thought I'd never get a hug from you."

He laughed. "Shut up, I hug you all the time."

She released Stiles in turn for Derek and didn't so much as hug him as she pressed her breasts all over his. His chest, not his breasts. Although Derek did have considerably large pecks. They could be breasts if one squinted hard enough...

"I meant after today. I promise it wasn't my plan to sexile you, pumpkin."

Stiles scowled in displeasure. "You're as bad as Derek with the horrible nicknames. Pumpkin is not a compliment. Are you trying to call me fat, Erica? Fat and bloated? Because that hurts." Stiles laid his hand over his heart in mock offense. "That hurts right here."

Erica snickered and gave Stiles a pinch on the cheek.

"Haven't changed a bit since high school, pumpkin."

"Okay now that hurts, because no one liked me in high school."

Derek came around and planted his hands on Stiles' shoulders. "Hey, I liked you in high school."

Erica got in one more jab before she closed the door to their apartment.

"I'd pay someone good money to think of a time when you didn't like Stiles."

Stiles leaned back into his best friend's crazy awkward embrace. But it wasn't too uncomfortable, Derek was a cushion. He should be a pillow. That would be something Stiles could live with. But he wouldn't share, because Stiles has never really been good at sharing in the first place; plus, it was his idea for Derek to be a pillow, so he should reap all the benefits.

"She's not wrong you know."

Derek let out a breath on the back of Stiles' throat before leading them into the living room and parking them on the couch, one on top of the other. If it was anyone other than Derek, the position would have been too intimate, a situation only shared by two lovers. But Stiles did love Derek, so he supposed it worked for them.

He wondered if this is why neither of them kept relationships long. It probably freaked people out or scared them away. Stiles recalls several men commenting on how close he and Derek were, but he never thought anything of it. He just shrugged it off and told them that's how it had always been.

Stiles knew Derek had told girls and boys alike the same thing, because Derek has told him in passing about little remarks his girlfriends or boyfriends had said. It had never been a big deal, so they never got around to addressing it. Something formed in his gut at the thought of things changing when each of them eventually did find someone worth the time and effort.

He didn't want to lose Derek, and he hoped Derek held Stiles in the same regard. Part of their friendship was the touching; the hugs and the pecks on the cheek and the cuddling and the hand holding. Stiles didn't want to miss any important details that Derek had often shared in his sleepy and slurred pillow talk before Stiles snuck off into his own bedroom, if he didn't just let sleep take him in Derek's bed.

Derek wasn't even gone and Stiles missed it already.

"Stop thinking so loud, I'm trying to enjoy some Spike and Buffy sex. I thought this was your favorite episode? I've never seen the appeal."

Stiles hadn't realized that Derek had even un-paused the DVR, too lost in his own mind. This was his favorite episode, and it just added fuel to the fire that Derek knew that. Of course he knew that, what didn't Derek know about Stiles?

"Okay, two words Derek: _rug sex_. How is that not hot to you?" Stiles snuggled up into Derek's chest and curled his legs up into his chest. "Also, have you ever considered being a pillow?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some more. Mwah! I love comments and I love that some of you like it already. XOXO, tell me what you think!

Stiles was meandering down the breakfast food isle, with Derek close on his heels, debating whether this week was an Apple Jacks or Fruity Pebbles week. Derek would choose Special K and tell Stiles that he wouldn't love him when he got fat, but Stiles knew that was a crock of shit, because Derek would always love him. Even if he did gain fifteen pounds from sugary sweet deliciousness.

He picked up the green box and hastily shoved it in his cart, trying to make a clean getaway before Derek got close enough.

"I saw that, you little shit." Derek ninja-ed himself out of nowhere and swept up Stiles' cereal and jammed it back with the rest of the boxes on the shelf.

"Derek, I am a grown man. I can choose my own breakfast foods."

"You know you only get the Apple Jacks to play the games next to the information label."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The blush is giving you away, sweet cheeks."

Dammit, Stiles could feel his face heat up. He had a terrible poker face. It wasn't his fault that the interactive puzzles were entertaining to children and adults alike. It stretched his mind, okay? It was justified.

Stiles let out a breath of resignation. "Tell me why I willingly went shopping with you and not Allison? Or Scott. Or by myself?"

He picked up his pace, trying to lose Derek before he reached the isle that stocked the Nutella. Come hell or high water, Stiles was getting his Nutella, Derek's diet be damned.

"Because Allison is picking Lydia and Jackson up from the airport and Scott is cleaning our mess up at the apartment so they can stay with us."

Stiles watched Derek try to slip a can of Pringles in the cart, but Stiles plucked them out and set them back on the shelf. No cereal, no chips. A yummy eye, for a less yummy eye.

"He's cleaning up _your_ mess, Mr. _I Like To Strip Naked Wherever I Am Standing At The Moment_." Stiles threw some Sun Chips in the bag, because he could eat those without Derek throwing a fit, and he knew Lydia liked them. "And I don't know where they're going to sleep. I know Lydia won't sleep on the couch. And I'm not slumming it for Jackson."

Derek was texting and walking, so Stiles used it as an opportunity to finally get some shopping done while Derek was preoccupied.

"You're sleeping in my room, butt-face. The Stepford's are sleeping in your room."

This was news to Stiles.

"Sorry dude," Stiles said as he dropped some chicken breast in the buggy, "there's no way I'm cuddling with you on your sex sheets. What kind of girl do you take me for?"

"You don't have a problem with on the couch. Or the kitchen table. Or the kitchen counter. Or the bathroom counter. Or—"

Stiles almost busted the can of cheese dip in his hands.

"Are you telling me you've had _sex_ in all of those places?!"

"Stiles! Keep your voice down!"

Stiles shook his head. "Oh no, mister. You're in _so_ much trouble."

He swatted Derek's hand as he tried to put back on of the several jars of Hazelnut-y goodness. Stiles was not budging on this. Nutella was the food of champions. Champions. Champ-i-ons.

"You're cleaning all of those places you just mentioned with bleach. You will get chemical burns, Derek. You will be scarred. Blemished. No one will ever want to have sex with you again. No one. You will be alone, buddy."

Derek came up behind Stiles and wrapped his hands around his waist. "Aw, baby, don't be like that," Derek laughed.

Stiles shivered slightly at the intimacy. It wasn't unusual. He did it all the time at home. When Stiles was making his breakfast. When Stiles was washing his dishes. When Stiles was folding his laundry. Sometimes he pressed a kiss to Stiles' ear, because Stiles had a thing for that. Derek knew all of Stiles' little quirks.

But it was weird out in public. What if people saw? What would they say? Would they think Derek and Stiles were a couple? Would they think that Derek could do better? Maybe Derek was too good looking for Stiles?

Stiles often thought that himself, that Derek was too pretty to be friends with someone who looked like Stiles. Stiles wasn't ugly, he knew he was mildly attractive, but Derek? Derek was beautiful.

Derek was broad shoulders and slim hips. He had a strong jaw and stubble that grew in just the right way, just the right fullness. Derek had long muscular arms and longer vein-y fingers, that Stiles had heard with his own ears, that knew how to bend and curve in all the right places. Derek had a perfect smile, it was honest-to-God one of Stiles' favorite things in the whole world. Derek lit up around Stiles, he was always laughing or joking and just being happy.

But Derek's eyes were the real breadwinners. He shared those with his mother and sister. When Stiles was younger, he could sit for hours and just look at Derek's eyes. Look at Derek. Wonder how unfair it was that Derek was capturing these amazing shots of all these exquisite people and places, but the truly beautiful thing was at the other side of the lens.

Stiles felt the knot that was in his stomach the other night begin to form again. Derek deserved to be happy. Stiles wanted him to be with someone that made him happy and that wouldn't gain him any judgmental looks from nosy people at grocery stores. _Seriously_ , quit staring.

He wondered if Erica made him happy, other than sexually. Obviously. He'd have to ask Derek. It was hard to tell, Derek had never really taken a relationship seriously before. But he had been with Erica on and off since the summer, and it was about to be New Year's. There had to be something deeper going on. Okay maybe deeper was the wrong word, because if Derek went any deeper with Erica, Stiles had a disturbing suspicion that Derek might cause permanent damage. Seriously. How much sex can one have before chafing happens? Stiles needs to know.

"Are you and Erica serious," Stiles blurted out. He needed to look into getting that brain-to-mouth filter to work. Who does one call to repair those?

Derek didn't miss a beat. "We aren't dating, so I don't know how we would be serious."

Stiles turned around abruptly, letting Derek's hands fall to grasp the handle of the cart.

"What do you mean, you aren't dating? She just made chicken casserole for us like, last night."

"Fucking and dating aren't the same things, Stiles."

Derek looked uncomfortable talking about this, and the last thing Stiles wanted to do want make Derek feel uncomfortable.

He bracketed Derek's face in his hands. "Are you okay, really?"

Derek huffed out a breath and brought his hands up to catch Stiles'. He pecked a kiss on the middle knuckle of both hands and surged forward to land another kiss at Stiles's hairline.

"You're too precious. I'm fine, babe."

He turned Stiles back around and gave him a push forward but stayed close behind.

"We never were really dating. She was just a warm body and a—"

"Do not finish that sentence."

"Okay, dear."

"What isle are the waffles on? If I'm sleeping on your sinning sheets, I'm getting waffle crumbs and syrup all over your bed. Derek, _stop_ pinching my butt! Derek, you know that tickles me. Derek. _Derek_. Oh my god, you are a _child_."

"Ma'am, could you tell me what isle the—, _Derek!_ "

 

/////

 

Stiles was laying on his bed, munching on some caramel popcorn he'd snuck in the house behind Derek's back. Lydia was there, she and Jackson flew in from New York to spend New Year's Eve with their friends, and the remainder of the college break with their families. Stiles enjoyed having them down, even Jackson at times. Once Stiles had gotten over his obsession with Lydia and his childhood resentment of Jackson, the three of them got along fine. Better than fine. Splendid.

Jackson was out with Derek, Scott, Boyd and Isaac. They were pre-gaming before the New Year's Eve festivities that were supposed to be going down tonight. The group had decided to go club hopping, despite Stiles' protests, and then come back to his and Derek's apartment and drink until they pass out. That was also against Stiles' protests.

Stiles wasn't a big fan of clubbing as he was of dancing. Stiles doubted Derek would deny him a couple songs, but Stiles wasn't coupled up and he really wasn't in the mood for random sex with a stranger. No STD's for Stiles please and thank you.

He'd decided to stay back at home with the girls while they got ready. It was a whole mess of hair extensions, mascara and some kind of tape they were putting on their boobs? Stiles had never been so glad to be gay in all twenty years of his life. _Ugh_.

Erica was in the living room, watching re-runs of The Bad Girl's Club, a guilty pleasure she had shared with Stiles from time to time. In light of new information, Stiles wasn't sure what to say to Erica. He was scared his mouth would open itself and say something incredibly rude like, " _why aren't you dating Derek_?" because Stiles was genuinely curious about that entire situation, but it wasn't his place to ask her. He would ask Derek, or he _has_ asked Derek, but he always gets shifty and avoids the question by making an immature snark about friends with benefits.

So Stiles was just going to hide out in his room with Lydia and Allison. Plus, she wasn't entirely alone. Allison had dragged along one of her friends from campus along. Stiles thinks her name might have been Kaitlin? Kate? Kate. Definitely Kate. She seemed nice enough, if not overly clingy and a little creepy. Stiles had to pretty much slam the door in her face to get some alone time with his girls.

"So what's the deal with that Kate chick?" It was like Lydia was reading Stiles' mind.

Allison groaned from her place on Stiles' bed, putting her make-up mirror down to explain.

"Ugh, she's from my Mythology class. I was talking to Ian," she hit Stiles in the arm to catch his attention, "You know, the cute one with long hair? He's dating that Paul guy, or used to date him. Blue eyes, super hot smile?" Stiles nodded his head, how could he forget a face like that? He definitely rivaled Derek in the good looks department. Stiles raised a brow at the fact that he was single. 

"I was inviting him to Club Myst with us, to meet us there." She pointed at Stiles. "You need to get in on that, by the way. A man like that doesn't stay single for long. Anyway,she asked if she could come." Allison finished applying her eyeliner, and seriously how was that shit comfortable? Stiles would be afraid to poke an eye out. "So I told her sure, whatever and she just appeared at my dorm this afternoon and wouldn't leave. It's annoying. She's driving me insane. She hit on Scott four times on our way over here."

Lydia was stuffing he boobs into a bra that looked in danger of spilling out all her goodies, but Stiles didn't comment. He'd once heard Lydia say that beauty was pain. Beauty was apparently nudity tonight because the dress she'd shown Stiles earlier hugged every curve and left nothing to the imagination. If you got it, flaunt it, Stiles guesses.

"Do you want me to tell her something? You know I will." Lydia pressed her lips together in concentration. Painting your clothes on must be _exhausting_.

Stiles spoke around a mouthful of popcorn. "If there's a cat fight in my apartment, you guys are paying for any and all damages."

Allison shoved Stiles' arm out from under him. "You're such a slob, close your mouth. You've been around Derek too long, he's rubbing off on you."

Lydia snorted. "Stiles wishes Derek would rub something off on him."

"If that was a gay sex joke, it totally didn't come together like you think it did." Stiles wiped his hands on his pants. "And those jokes got old five years ago."

"Whatever, are you changing? Because I'm not going out with you dressed like that."

Stiles looked down at his slacks and button down. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing, snob?"

"You're trying to get laid, not fill a job position."

Allison laughed behind him, but she cursed as she smudged her mascara in the process so Stiles figured karma had run it's course.

"What do you suggest I wear then?"

"I love how you don't deny you're trying to get laid," said Allison.

"Why are you two so obsessed with my sex life?"

"Because we want you to have one, Stiles." Lydia threw him a black shirt that was hidden in the back of his closet with the rest of his clothes he'd outgrown. There was no way Stiles was wearing this out, he'd look like a twink.

"This is like, a million times to small, Lyl-Pickle." He tossed the shirt on the bed and made hands for Allison to give back the food she'd helped herself to.

"It'll accent what little muscles you have. And don't call me that if you value your genitals."

"One, I do have muscles—"

"No one could ever tell with the clothes you wear."

"And two, you used to love that name. You were so obsessed with the Rugrats when we were little. I think Angelica formed your upbringing."

"Okay, brother bear."

Allison tsked. "You know he gets mad if anyone other than Derek calls him that."

"I'm aware."

What the hell, Stiles retrieved the shirt from the bed and exchanged it for the one he had on, ignoring Lydia's mock comments about how he did have a chest and _were those abs_? Yes, they were abs. Derek had him eating rabbit food all the time, even though Stiles was the one doing the cooking. He'd lost his freshman fifteen as quickly as he'd gained it.

"Are you happy, now?"

"Thrilled."

 

///// 

 

Stiles texted Derek asking him and the boys to come back to the house so they could figure out DD situations. Stiles knew they would already be buzzed from drinking at Mulligan's but it wasn't too far from the apartment, so they should all be able to drive safely just a short distance.

Kate and Erica seemed to be getting along about as well as oil and water. Stiles wasn't looking forward to the hijinks that would ensue if the girls kept it up. Allison was trying to be polite, but Stiles could see his sister struggling. Erica had to stop Lydia from lunging at Kate when she asked if Lydia was a bottle red-head, because she couldn't tell. Kate was skating on some very thin ice.

So leave it to Derek to hit on her. He walked through the door and greeted Stiles with a sloppy drunken kiss on the forehead and a brief hug. Stiles did a head count and estimated they'd need about the cars to all fit comfortably. He watched Erica size up Boyd from where she was seated on the couch and Derek held no reservations in introducing himself to Kate a little too friendly for Stiles' liking. Hm, maybe they were just sex buddies. Stiles had never seen them in an environment where they weren't coupled up.

Kate smiled slyly at something Derek whispered in her ear. She caught Stiles' eye over his shoulder and winked at him. What the fuck was that about? This girl was rubbing Stiles in all the wrong ways.

Lydia appeared beside him and poked him in the shoulder to exit him from whatever weird staring contest he was currently having with Kate.

"Jealousy kills, hun."

Stiles turned his head to face her. "I'm not jealous, Lyl. Why does everyone think I'm jealous of every girlfriend Derek has?"

Lydia looked at Stiles like she was trying to figure up something in her head. "Do you really not know, Stiles?"

"Do I not know what? I know a lot of things. How does one know what one doesn't know? How—"

"Stiles."

Stiles shrugged. "Sorry. Rambling. It's a thing with me."

Lydia draped her arm around Stiles' shoulder and pulled him away from the hustle and bustle of the living room.

"I know, trust me. I know." She ran her hands over his chest smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles. "Stiles, Derek is so in love with you that it's almost painful for everyone else to watch."

"Derek loves me, he is not _in_ love with me. Where are you even getting this from?"

She let out a sigh. "Honey, we all see it. Everyone sees it but the two of you. Stop fidgeting, you're going to give yourself a wedgie in those jeans."

"You're the one who insisted I wear skinny jeans, Lydia."

"They make your ass look fantastic. Stop trying to change the subject."

Stiles shrugged. "There's nothing to talk about. And I'm tired of hearing about it. You, my sister, my mom; you're all gossipy old ladies. Find something new to talk about. It's fucking annyoing."

"Well," Lydia huffed, "I guess I won't bring it up anymore, asshat." She began to walk back into the living room. "But don't come running to me or your sister when the both of you pull your heads out of your asses and it's too late. I won't feel sorry for you."

"I wouldn—"

"Because that," she pointed to where Derek was blatantly flirting with Kate, and Kate was hanging on to every word coming out of Derek's mouth, "that's what's going to fuck things up. He's screwing everything in sight and you're trying to ignore it all. Don't pretend I'm not right, it's insulting."

The angry clicking of her feels told Stiles she was going to be unbearable tonight, but Stiles made a promise to himself right then and there that he wouldn't care. Tonight _he_ was going to be the one to find a warm body. He wouldn't cling to Derek's coattails like he usually did when they went clubbing. He would find someone to bring back home, and he would prove Lydia wrong.

What did she know? She was in a relationship with the Jackson. No matter how close he and Stiles got, he would still be a douche bag. It was a character trait. That was just Jackson. Lydia couldn't tell Stiles what was what when her boyfriend used to wear sunglasses at night. Sunglasses. _At night_. Equals douche bag.

He went upstairs and pulled a henley from his closet to wear over this ridiculous shirt. He spiked the ends of his too-long hair up in the front, grabbed his keys from the dresser and went back downstairs.

He saw Erica still sitting on the couch when he came back down. She and Boyd were shooting each other looks, but it didn't look like either one of them was going to make a move anytime soon.

"You," he aimed his finger at Erica, who looked up in questioning, "you're coming with me."

She thought it over for a second and raised her shoulders in a move that signified _what the hell_ and got up to follow Stiles.

He grabbed a lonely looking Isaac by the front door and yelled over his shoulder. "These two are with me. The rest of you decide who's riding with who and who's taking a cab. I really don't care."

He didn't make it out of the door in time to miss the worried look that Allison shot him or the obvious dismissal of Lydia or the hurt look that flashed across Derek's face. Oh fucking well, Stiles was going to have a damn good New Year's Eve if it became the death of him. They were all headed to the same place, so it's not like it mattered if Stiles stayed and made annoying small talk and tried not to barf as Kate batted her eyelashes at Derek.

He was going to prove them wrong, all of them. He would find someone to shut them up. Someone that didn't feel threatened by Derek's good looks or Allison's intense questioning or Lydia's judgmental glares. New year, new Stiles. He would prove them wrong.

Stiles should have been the first one to realize that was probably the most horrible idea he could have thought of.

 

/////

"So what's the game plan," Erica asked.

"Ladies and gents, we are on Mission: _Everybody Have Fun_. There's no game plan. Well, not for us as a group."

"Do you have your own game plan in mind?" Isaac was sitting in the back seat, fingers flying on his keyboard.

"I'm looking for someone to give Stiles sexy times. Yes, I'm talking about myself in third person. No, I don't care." Stiles whipped around a car to avoid getting stuck at the red light. "Stiles needs lovin' too. If my dick doesn't get any other sexual partners besides my right hand, I'm getting a cat. Several cats. _Cats_. I will be the cat lady. This is getting out of hand, pun intended."

"I just had my fill of amazing sex, so I guess I could help you out. If you asked nicely enough. You have been giving me a cold shoulder lately, asshole," Erica said, examining her nails.

"Oh Erica, my Queen, would you pretty pretty please help your best and dearest friend find someone to bump uglies with tonight?" Stiles blinked his eyes fast and frequent as possible, using Kate as his inspiration. Honestly, who batted their eyes like that? She looked like she was having some sort of medical attack.

Erica rolled her eyes in what Stiles noticed was becoming a trend for the night. "Don't be so dramatic. But yes, I will be happy to help you get laid, even if..." She mumbled something under her breath, but Stiles couldn't hear it, so he wasn't going to worry about it.

"I will be a part of this plan _for now_. As soon as it starts going bad, I'm getting Derek or Alli and my name will never be brought up, okay?" Isaac made his announcement from the backseat and Stiles met his eyes in the rear view mirror and saw that he was serious.

Okay, Stiles could understand that. Stiles had a tendency to formulate plans that sounded good in his head but failed to pass human trials. There was that time with the homemade buzz saw. And the time with the Sheriff's police cruiser and several rolls of plastic wrap. There was also the time with Derek and the strippers. And Scott and the strippers. And _Allison_ with the strippers. Pretty much everyone had been subjected to Stiles and his mild obsession with high school pranks and dancing girls.

"Deal. But just Alli. No Derek and no Lydia. Under no circumstances are you to get Lydia. Or Derek," Stiles said, his voice unwavering, letting them know he wasn't joking. He didn't want to deal with either of them until he absolutely had to. He was probably being immature and stupid, but fuck it.

Lydia thought he was too attached to Derek? Stiles would show her that he can do just fine without either of them. He didn't have a problem with Derek dating, _er_ , fucking the ladies of his choice. If the only reason everyone thought Derek and Stiles were meant to live some Happy Ever After gay love fest with unicorns and rainbows just because Stiles wasn't seeing anyone, Stiles would find himself someone to see.

It was basic math. Derek + girl/guy + a single Stiles = nosy best friends and relatives. Derek + slutty, annoying Kate + Stiles + super humanly hot new boyfriend that everyone will be jealous of = everyone minding their own business. Boom, happy endings for everyone.

In the back of Stiles' mind, his aggravating inner commentary was telling him that things would never be the same if his plan went accordingly. No more cuddles, no more kisses to the forehead, no more holding hands and watching Supernatural until Derek got tired of hearing Stiles wax poetic about Jensen Ackles' face. No more cooking in the kitchen curled into Derek's arms.

It sounded strangely like a relationship, a sexual one, or one further extending than a friendship. But he and Derek were eons away from the friendship stage. But they weren't a couple. They were floating somewhere in between and it was comfortable for them, until everyone started to intrude every few months like they tended to do.

He would get over it. There was nothing in this world that could come between Stiles and Derek's weird companionship. They would learn to deal with the loss of touch and teasing affection, it wouldn't be easy because old habits die hard. But if Stiles was able to get Derek to stop smoking filthy cigarettes, he would tame Derek's indulgent efforts to play with Stiles' ears.

Isaac didn't seem to be phased by Stiles' earlier requests when they arrived at Club Myst and jumped to the front of the line, being granted access easy enough, the bouncer being Boyd's cousin and all. Luckily he recognized Stiles and waved them in, quieting the heckles of people in line with an intimidating glare.

"I'm serious though, if you start dancing on bars and taking your clothes off, I'm texting Derek to come get you down," Isaac said at Stiles' side.

Outraged and slightly embarrassed, because the cute guy at the bar had definitely heard Isaac. "That was one time, and you guys never let me forget it."

"It was twice, and it wasn't that long ago, butter cup." Erica spoke, making her way towards the bar. "And stop looking at bar stool mongrels, we'll find you something hot and heavy on the dance floor."

It didn't take them long to get drinks, Erica's boobs were almost up to her ears and 'the girls' were inviting men, including the bartender, over left and right. Isaac had disappeared to the upper story of the club after shoving a guy who had an uncanny resemblance to Danny up the stairs. So much for helping Stiles.

They had been in this place for about fifteen minutes when Stiles saw a flash of strikingly familiar red head come through the door followed by inexplicably neat hair that could only be Jackson's. The gang was here.

"Oh no you don't," Erica said, pulling Stiles from his seat and pushing him around in the sea of bodies. "We're going upstairs. And if they follow, we'll go another floor up."

Stiles slithered past body after body, following Erica in her escape. "This is a three story club, filled with tons of fucking people. In California. On _New Year's Ev_ e. We don't even have to see any of them tonight if you don't want to. They're your friends, not mine. I have no problem with this plan."

Stiles had never seen this side of Erica, she was vibrating with anticipation to party and get messed up. Stiles was down for that. He could use a break from being stressed about everything, not just Derek and Lydia, but school too. He deserved it. Why the hell not?

"Lead the way, m'lady."

Erica gauged his response and raised her glass for a toast. Stiles threw back his drink and felt the burn in his throat. Erica finished her glass and was in search of a refill.

"I've gotta warn you though, Stiles. If you start stripping on tables, I'm not calling Derek."

Stiles took another shot, and was relived when it went down smoother this time.

"What do you plan on doing?"

Erica pressed another drink in his hand, and Stiles was starting to feel a little loose.

"Joining you, of course."

"Of course."

 

/////

 

Stiles is _druuunk_. He's only seen his friends twice since he's been in Club Myst and he thought he'd miss them but Erica and alcohol mix extremely well and he hasn't had a sad thought in an hour.

At the moment he was dancing with Erica, if you could even call it dancing. Stiles probably looked like he was having a spasm attack, and Erica was dropping her ass to the floor at fifty second intervals, but he was having the time of his life.

He'd ran into Ian, Allison's classmate, on his way to the restroom half an hour or so ago. They both agreed to meet up on the dance floor and Ian was a _really_ good time. He was fetching Stiles and himself a drink. He was an excellent dancer, from what Stiles could feel.

And here he comes.

He handed Stiles his drink and gave Erica a playful smack on the butt. She looked pleased that her bum-shaking efforts were being recognized. Ian moved around a couple people to fit himself behind Stiles.

Stiles let his limbs calm down and pressed back into Ian. He swung his hips to the beat and joined his free hand with Ian's at his own stomach. Erica hung her arms on Stiles' neck and slotted one of her legs between Stiles', moving to the music.

Stiles made his best efforts to lean back into Ian instead of thrusting forward into Erica's provocative stance. She leaned up and whispered in his ear: "I think my job is done here, good lookin'. I'm going to go find my own excitement."

Stiles smiled at her and nodded, letting his hands release her from where they'd dropped on her backside.

"Leaving so soon, Miss Erica?" Ian said from behind Stiles, ghosting his smirk into Stiles neck. "We were just getting started. Stay and join us?"

Erica flushed at the comment, fanning herself with her hands.

"Stiles, you better control you boy unless you want to make this two a three." Stiles didn't think she was kidding, and he couldn't blame her. Ian was all hands and whispered words of sex-related encouragement. "Don't worry, Ian. I'll be back, and if Stiles isn't jumping your bones in the next fifteen minutes, I'll take you up on that offer."

She left with a wink and a shake of her well toned ass.

They kept dancing. Sliding this way and that, grinding into each other, grinning over words said in forced intimacy of a large crowd. Ian was funny, in a cynical sense. He made crude jokes that Stiles could appreciate in his less than sober state.

Their shot glasses had made their way onto some stranger's table and both of their hands were free to roam and explore each other's bodies. Ian had a pair of abs that Stiles wasted no time getting his hands on. He turned and circled his arms around Ian's neck, tugging at his long strands of hair.

"Don't start something that you don't intend to finish, little one." Ian tipped his head back and groaned as Stiles gave another pull.

"Who says I don't," Stiles said, pressing him lips on Ian's chin, moving along his jaw.

"That's feels good, but I want those here." Ian dipped his head and captured Stiles' already puckered lips.

The kiss was slower than Stiles' expected it to be, Ian taking the time to seek out every part of Stiles' mouth. They kept their lips locked for what seemed to be for ever, but was probably just a couple minutes.

When Stiles felt the hot line of Ian's arousal through his jeans, he decided they should take this elsewhere. Stiles wasn't going to spend another hour in this place with a pair of blue balls. No sir, no ma'am.

"Let's get out of here," Stiles breathed in Ian's ear.

"I thought you'd never ask."

 

/////

 

Stiles found Erica on his way out and forked over enough money for a cab, making her promise to find Isaac before she left, so he wouldn't be left alone.

"I saw him with Danny earlier."

"You liar."

Erica laughed. "No, I did! They were all over each other. I thought Danny was going to whip his dick out at one point. It was a very enjoyable show."

Ian laughed at Stiles' temple. "I like you. You have some funny friends, Stiles."

Erica shook her head profusely. "No, I'm the only chill one. Do yourself a favor and don't stick around in the morning. All his other friends are nosy and uptight."

"Hey," Stiles protested, "they aren't that bad."

"I wasn't even dating Derek and I got the cold shoulder for all seven months we were having casual sex."

"Point taken."

Erica shoved them both in the direction of the club's exit. "You two crazy kids get out of here, I'll find the crazies and hold them off for as long as possible."

Ian and Stiles were in Stiles' Jeep before Ian spoke again.

"Should I really worry about your friends? We can take this to my dorm if you want," Ian said from the passenger seat.

"Nah, don't worry about it." He reached over and kissed Ian once more before driving. "You won't even notice they're there."

 

/////

 

Stiles' friends were not as easily ignored as he hoped they'd be.

The sex was awesome. Stiles doesn't know if he feels that way because Ian was phenomenal in bed or because his sexual drought had gone on for far too long.

He was sweet, he fucked just like he kissed: slow and gentle but hard and demanding at times. Stiles kind of wished Derek was home, so he'd have to endure Stiles' own set of _thump thump thump_ noises echoing through the house.

Ian opened Stiles up, not bothering to waste any time, scissoring his fingers in Stiles' hole until Stiles was a blabbering mess. Stiles had originally planned to ride him, but the foreplay left Stiles' limbs lax enough to more than welcome being turned over on his stomach, face in the pillow and hands clutching the sheets.

Stiles had been told he was rather vocal in the sack. He never realized it, he usually had other things on his mind. But his shouts of pleasure made Ian's grin grow bigger, and he pushed hard and pulled out slower before ramming back in again, just enough to drag out words from Stiles' lips.

They'd finished some time ago and Stiles expected some sort of awkward post-coital conversation to occur as Ian found his way to the door, but no such thing happened. They were lying around in the bed Lydia and Jackson were supposed to be sleeping in for the duration of their stay, and if Stiles got a slight amount of sick satisfaction that he'd just screamed Ian's name into the pillow that Lydia would be resting her head on for the rest of the week, well that was his business.

Ian tossed Stiles his boxers, the both of them not being fully comfortable with each other to walk around naked as the day they were born. It was nearing midnight, and Stiles figured the gang would be back by now, but they weren't so he guessed Erica had convinced them to stay at the club into the New Year.

Ian was looking himself over in the mirror above Stiles' dresser, poking at the marks Stiles hadn't realized he'd sucked into his skin. "These are going to be there for a while." He turned to smirk at Stiles. "How will I ever explain myself to your sister?"

Stiles stood and walked over to him, placing his mouth over the hickey worrying it some more. "You don't have to tell her anything if we never leave this room. Me, you and a million boxes of condoms? Forever? — _hmph_ , do that again— Whaddya say?"

Ian backed him up and they fell ungracefully to the bed, laughing at their combined clumsiness.

Stiles must have pissed of one of The Fates in a previous life, because as Ian was licking cool lines up his neck, he heard keys jangling in the door. "Fuck, love, I don't think we have that option."

Ian moved to get up, and Stiles pulled him back down.

"What? Them? They're no one. No body. They might be intruders. Are you equipped to protect me? Who am I kidding, I've seen your arms." Stiles nuzzled Ian's neck, content to not move ever again, except maybe to pee. And shower. And eat. Okay, maybe not forever. "But seriously, don't go."

Stiles was worried he sounded like a clingy lay, the one that begs for his or her partner to stay and never gets their promised phone call.

Ian snorted and put an end to his speculations. "No way I'm leaving without round two. I'm just putting some clothes on."

Stiles let him go and licked his lips at the flex of his back and he yanked his jeans over his hips.

"I'm just going to make you take them off later, y'know?"

"I was counting on it."

 

/////

 

"Stiles! _Stiiiles_ , I know you're here baby brother. Come out, come out wherever you are!" Stiles could hear Allison carrying on in the living room.

"Who let Allison into the tequila?" Stiles said ans he came out of his room, shrugging his shirt on, Ian close behind him.

The guilty look on Scott's face let him know who to blame.

"She ordered it when I wasn't looking, I swear."

Allison giggled into one of her hands and poked Scott in the nose, the two of them sharing an affectionate look that made Stiles feel a cavity coming on.

"O _ooo_ O _oo_ h, is that our Stiles doing the walk of shame with Mr. Handsome?" Lydia had apparently gotten over whatever animosity she'd felt towards him earlier that night, coming over and patting Stiles on the cheek like some fucked up proud parent. Why was he friends with these people again?

Jackson and Scott weren't falling all over themselves quite as much as the rest of the group, so they must have been the designated driver's. They were the owners of two easily drunk girlfriends, so it seemed to fit the bill.

Boyd was loose and relaxed, not really wasted. He was crashed at the dinette, waiting on Erica to find Stiles and Derek's liquor stash. Stiles made a mental not to get his money back that he'd given her for the cab ride she obviously didn't take. The pair were still making heart-shaped anime eyes at one another, and Stiles hoped they did get together. Erica was cooler than he'd previously thought and he'd like to see her around more now that her friends with benefits contract was terminated with Derek.

A bunch of sex fiends, the lot of them.

Jackson was waiting on Lydia to return to his lap, where she had previously been sprawled out on. His usual scowl was replaced with a soft smile directed at his long-time girlfriend who was currently hanging all over Stiles, cracking jokes about him being a _real boy_ and something about planting crops because the drought had finally cleared up. She wasn't nearly as funny as she thought she was.

And Derek. _Oh Derek_. Derek had a lap full of slutty drunken sorority girl reject. Okay, maybe that was slightly unfair, but Stiles did not like Kate. She was a bitch. Well, she'd never been a bitch to him, but she seemed like a bitch. It was justified. It _was_. Stiles didn't need to explain himself okay, everyone was entitled to their opinions. Wasn't that in the Constitution? Or was it The Bible? It should be somewhere.

Derek was shooting daggers at.. Stiles? No. Ian. If looks could kill, Ian would have dropped dead a long time ago. Stiles didn't see what his problem was, but he was staring holes into Derek's sort-of date, so he guesses Derek felt the need to reciprocate.

Ian didn't appear to be phased by it, although with the hustle and bustle of everyone talking at once, everyone being Allison and Lydia with a few shouts every now and then from Erica. He stood at Stiles' back, one hand on Stiles' waist, the other tucked in his own back pocket. If anything he looked to be amused by Derek's attempt at creating a death ray with his eyes alone, but Stiles was failing to see what was so funny.

He carefully guided Lydia back to Jackson, ignoring whatever smart ass comment that was coming out of her mouth. He was just happy they weren't fighting anymore, if it could even be considered a fight. Nevertheless, Lydia would have made Stiles' life a living hell for the next week if they'd kept at it, so Stiles let out a sigh of relief.

He felt like something, or someone was missing, and he did a quick scan of the room. "Erica! Did you leave Isaac at the club?!"

Erica was chugging a bottle of Jack, and it took all the willpower Stiles contained in his body for him not to make a reference to Kesha. He liked his life, he'd like to continue living it.

"Told you he was with Danny, they left — _Hey, that's mine_ , get your own — they left not long after you and Ian." At least she seemed to hold her alcohol better than the rest of the girls, which shouldn't have surprised him because she'd drank half of the bar before he'd even left the club.

Allison seemed to be knocked out of her trance at Ian's name. "Ian! Thought that was _yooooou_! You and my brother are so c _uuu_ te. _Awwwwwww_."

Ian smirked, and gave Allison a nod.

Stiles laughed and caught Allison when she did an impressive leap off the couch when Scott has his back turned, and fell into Stiles' waiting arms. "I love you, Stile _ssss_. You're my favorite br _ooo_ ther. D'ya know that? My _favorite_."

Stiles snorted, handing Allison over to Scott, who looked worn out from what Stiles would put money on were Allison's shenanigans when she was drunk. "I'm your only brother, you dork."

" _Noooo_ , Derek's like my brother. But he never brings me soup when I'm sick, but you d _oooo_!"

Scott looked mildly offended. "I bring you soup, baby." Stiles tried to ignore his pout, rolling his eyes at Scott's jutted out lip. What a poon.

"But bubba brings me g _oooo_ d soup, Scotty-bab _yyy_."

Stiles laughed at that, because it was true. Scott could burn water, but he tried so hard, it was difficult not to find it adorable. However Stiles was immune to Scott's puppy dog eyes and has been since he convinced Stiles to rescue his old grumpy cat from a giant tree in their backyard and Stiles broke his arm in three places trying to save said cat. Cats had nine lives, why couldn't he just jump?!

"I bet Ian makes good soup, Allis _ooo_ n. Do you make good soup, Ian," Lydia asked from her perch on Jackson's legs.

"No, but I make a mean pasta, ladies. Be on the lookout." Ian said, smirking into Stiles shoulder, dropping a chaste kiss there.

"You can be my new brother, then! Brother- _in-law_! Stiles knooows how much I love past _aaa_."

Stiles nodded. "It's how she gained her freshman fifteen. This is a true story. A story involving ridiculous study habits and endless trips to Olive Garden."

"Who the hell are you?" Derek had obviously given up on killing Ian with a single look and had taken his displeasure to another level, which was not cool because this guy was doing Stiles a service by even existing. Derek should write Ian a thank you note, because now he could have as much loud zoo sex as he wanted and Stiles would be content until, oh about July.

Ian wasn't a punk though; Stiles wasn't sure of he was grateful or not, but he stood his ground.

"I'm just Ian, man."

Derek scoffed, and Kate glared at Stiles for interrupting whatever the hell she was doing to Derek's neck. Que gross shudders, because Stiles could see spit on her swollen lips and markings on Derek's throat that looked like a hoard of leeches had been released on him. _Yuck_.

"Well, _Just Ian_ , do you mind getting your hands off of my best friend's fucking dick? He doesn't know you."

A chorus of 'Derek' came from Erica, Jackson and Scott's mouths. Allison looked confused and Lydia's hands itched like they wanted to reach for her phone and possibly record this. If this wasn't Stiles' mess, he probably would have held the same interest, but it was and he didn't.

Ian looked at his hand placement, and Stiles silently gave him a round of applause when he didn't make a move to remove it.

"It's just on his hip, man. I don't want any problems."

Derek stood up, not bothering to gather Kate from where she fell on the floor. "I didn't ask if—"

"Woah, _no_." Stiles stalked forward and stopped Derek from coming any closer to Ian. He didn't see what the problem was, but Stiles knew that Derek was an angry drunk and he liked to pick fights when he got a little too inebriated. "Let's get you to bed, buddy. It's all good here. You've had way too much to drink."

"Stiles, get out of—"

"It's 11:59! Turn on the TV, guys!" Erica was Stiles' saving grace at this point, and he would worship at her feet and be in her eternal debt for kicking out the elephant in the room.

Boyd grabbed the remote from somewhere on the coffee table and Stiles pushed Derek and Ian back to their separate corners, Kate snatching Derek up as soon as he was in arms reach.

"I'm sorry about all of that," Stiles apologized to Ian. "He just gets like that sometimes."

Ian tipped his head up with his hand. "It's okay, it was always weird when I hung out with my ex's, too."

"No, he's not my—" Ian shushed Stiles with a kiss to his mouth, Stiles not having realized that Ryan Seacrest had already reached the end of his countdown.

"Happy New Ye _aaa_ r!"

Stiles broke off from the kiss with a private grin.

"Scott, stop giving my sister tequila!"

"Erica gave it to her!"

"Erica, why would you do that? Alli, _get off the table_."

"Like brother, like sister."

"It was _ONE TIME_!"

 

The rest of New Year's Eve night had passed by in a blur. Allison and Lydia finally tired themselves out around three in the morning, half of their clothes missing from an impromptu game of strip poker with their boyfriends, Boyd and Erica. Scott cuddled around Allison on the floor in front of the TV when her drunken shouts turned into hushed whispers and long, drawn out yawns.

Jackson and Lydia had made their way into Stiles' room, either too drunk or not caring that Stiles just had sex there three hours before. Stiles winced at the thought of whatever punishment Lydia would unleash on him when she woke up in the wet spot. God, why did he ever think that was a good idea? He should write a short and sweet obituary right now. Or move to a far away island.

He wondered how much he had in his savings...

Boyd left, being the only one sober enough at the time to drive, not wanting to find a place on the floor in the already crowded apartment. He took Erica with him to drop her off at home, which Stiles believed for a grand total of zero seconds. If he knew Erica, which he felt like he did after tonight, she would devour him the moment they were both in the vehicle.

Derek had led Kate to his bedroom sometime around two, Kate shooting Stiles a sly smirk that Stiles wasn't sure he comprehended the meaning of. He tried to keep his eyes from permanently rolling into the back of his head when everyone but him, Allison, Erica and Lydia burst into giggles at the sound of the headboard ramming into the wall. Stiles was so not paying for that shit.

They'd carried on for about half an hour, shouting and obviously not caring that there were other people in the apartment who felt physically ill at the image of Derek and Kate _together_. Doing a horrifically disturbing amount of gross _sex things_. But whatever.

Ian had said, "I should learn couple things from that guy," when it was clear Kate and Derek were on their third round.

Erica laughed at the look of pure revulsion on Stiles' face and said "Oh, please do. Several times. And let me watch."

Ian had refused to make a comment after that, to which Stiles thanked him. In the bathroom. With his mouth. On _places_.

It was now five and Ian was helping Stiles clean up after the pig sty his friends had made out of his apartment. Stiles' buzz had worn off an hour ago, and a few cups of water and some aspirin later Stiles felt fine enough to do a cleaning spree that he wouldn't feel up to in the morning. Ian held his liquor well and had no problem with this and even if he and Ian never had sex after this, he would like Ian to stick around, maybe as a friend.

They gathered shot glasses and endless bottles of wine and tequila and a few cans of beer that Stiles wasn't even aware he and Derek owned. Luckily no one had puked, but that would be a different story around noon, so Ian helped Stiles place towels around the toilets for when everyone would be praising the porcelain gods. Stiles had witnessed his sister blow chunks after drowning her liver in tequila. It wasn't pretty or easy to clean up.

It was beginning to get light by the time they finished mopping up various puddles of whatever alcoholic beverage was on the floor. Stupid drunks and they're clumsy hands.

Stiles had enjoyed just being alone with Ian, without pretense or nosy friends. They had a really great banter going and Ian was truly a great guy to hang around. They took the trash out to the curb and sat on the porch, leaning against one another and watching the sun rise, waiting on Ian's cab to arrive.

"I had a great time with you, Stiles." Ian murmured into Stiles' shoulder where his head was rested.

"Why do I feel a 'but' coming on?"

Ian sighed. "I don't think we'd go anywhere romantically. We'd be fucking awesome friends; you're an awesome guy. I just think we both have other people in mind."

Stiles groaned. Dammit. "It's Derek isn't it?"

"I'm surprised you had to ask."

Stiles knew this would happen. He knew that Derek would freak out whatever guy he brought home. But right now he couldn't really bring himself to care. He'd just had awesome sex. Really, can Stiles get an amen? The sex was hot. And sweaty. All things sex should be. And has anyone seen Ian? Smoldering eyes and sexy smirks all around. Sex god _extraordinaire_.

But he'd just had great sex, a good night with his friends all besides Derek, who he knew he'd patch things up with in the morning, and he'd made a friend that was more bearable than his other ones combined.

Why did he need to be in a relationship to be happy? That was such bullshit. He'd proven Lydia wrong already, he went out and partied hard without a thought of Derek in his mind and he'd gotten laid without any shit from Derek. And he didn't have a problem with Derek fucking Kate.

Fuck.

Except he hadn't. He _did_ think of Derek at certain times during the night, and Derek _did_ give him shit for bringing someone else home. He'd just been friend-zoned and the first thing that came to his mind was patching things up with Derek. And he _did_ have a problem with Kate. He hated someone with no prior reasoning for the first time in his _life_ because of Derek.

Everything led back to him.

All roads lead back to Derek _friggin'_ Hale.

Stiles didn't just love Derek, Stiles was in love with Derek.

Mother _fucker_.

All the pieces began to fall together in Stiles' mind. Being attached to Derek at the hip. All the domestic things they did around the house. The neck kissing in the kitchen. The hand holing on the couch. The comments from both of their families that they'd each blown off time and time again. The long string of boyfriends Stiles never cared to make stick around. Son of a bitch.

"Oh my god." Ian sat up at Stiles' outburst.

"I'm in love with Derek."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "You didn't know?"

"Did I— of course I didn't know! Did you miss the press announcement I just made? No, I didn't know! Was I supposed to know?! No one told me!"

Ian looked at Stiles like he had lost his mind, and in all fairness to him Stiles thinks he might have.

"The guy nearly pops a vein in his forehead when he sees someone touching you and you don't know that he's in love with you?"

Stiles shook his head, because that was not what he said, at all.

"No, no, no. I said _I'm_ in love with Derek, not the other way around. Keep up, Ian."

"Man, are you blind?"

Rude. "No, I'm not blind? What does that have to do with anything? I just found out I'm in love with my roommate, my best friend and you're asking me if I can see?!"

Ian looked exasperated, which was unfair because Stiles was the one carrying a heavy load here. On his _back_ , perverts.

"If you don't see it, I'm not going to be the one to tell you."

Stiles waved his hands in aggravation, "What are you talking about?!"

Ian shrugged his shoulders in an offhanded manner. "It's not my business to tell. You'll figure it out soon enough."

Leave it to Stiles to make life-altering revelations when he's hanging out with someone who likes to give cryptic fucking riddle answers. What did he do to deserve this? Was it the strippers? Stiles bets it was the strippers. It's all fun and games until God punishes you for your high school pranks.

"Ugh," Stiles groaned. "Okay. Whatever you say. I hope you know this has severely altered my choice to keep you around. If sex is off the table, your trash picking up skills aren't enough to win me over, buddy."

Ian's cab drove up, and he stood up on the porch, holding out a hand to help Stiles up. Ian pulled him into a hug and _god_ why did Stiles agree to let him go again? Oh, he was in love with someone else. A man. A Derek. Just Derek. His best friend of forever. Cool beans.

Ian gave Stiles a pat on the ass, and laughed when Stiles' cheeks turned red.

"You know, Stiles. The sex doesn't have to stop. I'm free, you're free..."

"Ian if you ever put your dick in me again I will never willingly let you leave my bedroom. And I have class. And I pee a lot more times than I should. I feel like a pregnant woman. I would be an uneducated, soiled mess. That is not happening."

Ian snickered and opened the cab door, blowing Stiles a mocking kiss, which he caught and pretended to stick in his pocket.

"Just know the offer's there," he said with a smirk before getting into the vehicle and closing the door.

"I'll keep that in mind, sweet cheeks!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're well on our way! A little Peter and Stiles bromance in here. I love that you guys are enjoying this as much as I am! Leave a comment, tell me your thoughts, maybe what you think is going to or should happen next? XOXO.

Stiles woke up some time around one in the afternoon with only a small headache. He was lying on the couch, with a fully dressed Lydia sitting on his legs. She wasn't as light as she looked, so he formed some words into a sort-of sentence, telling her to get off. She looked put off, but she stood up and picked up Stiles' feet, sat back down and rested his legs in her lap.

"What are you doing up, anyway?" Stiles asked. "You drank enough to float a battleship around."

Lydia grimaced, not too pleased with her behavior last night. She hated being drunk and not in control of her actions. Stiles knew this because he'd been on the receiving end of many bruises after letting her get wasted in high school. Lydia hit like a _man_. Although he would never tell her that. He doesn't need his balls for have children, but they'd be nice to keep around. For pleasure purposes.

"It's your sister's fault. She could convince a fish to buy water." Lydia pulled at the hairs on Stiles' legs, _ouch_. "She always looks like she's having the time of her life when she's drunk."

Stiles leaned forward to slap her hands away. "Stop that." He sat up and pulled his legs out of her lap, tucking them under his thighs. "And I'm pretty sure she _was_ having the time of her life. Alli get's excited watching paint dry. Plus, she was with Scott. They always have a good time together."

Jealousy hit Stiles like a brick in the face. A cement brick. Yesterday he would have thought it was just resentment at the fact that he didn't have what they had. This morning, he knew he wanted to share that with Derek and no one else. Why did he never see this before?

"Is that bitterness in your voice, Stilinski?" Jackson had came out of nowhere, the little creeper. He hopped over the back of the couch, the soles of his feet jabbing into Stiles' thighs.

" _Ow_ , you jerk." He rubbed the tender spot. "And be careful, she's on the leg hair obsession again." He gestured at Lydia.

"I know, I woke up with a line of hair missing this morning." Jackson didn't sound as angry as he did amused with Lydia's quirkiness.

"I don't see how guys don't shave. That has to be uncomfortable." Remembrance dawned over her sharp features. "And don't think you won't be getting something nasty in return for making us sleep in that disgusting bed last night, Stiles. If I wasn't so happy for you, I would kill you."

"Yeah, man. Never cool to make guests sleep in your _cum_ -dumpster bed. We flew in for this shit." He settled back into Lydia's arms. "Congrats on the sex though." Hr raised his hand to fist bump Stiles.

Stiles should have gotten sad at the mention of Ian, but he just wasn't. His mind was on autopilot, heading straight towards _DerekDerekDerek_.

"I'm sure Derek would be more than happy to let you sleep in his room."

Jackson blanched at that and Lydia's face lit up in rage. Stiles regretted opening that can of soap opera soaked worms.

"If you think I would ever put any part of my body where Kate has pleasured herself, you're dumber than you look," Lydia spat out.

"Are you still mad about what she said about your hair?"

Jackson's eyes widened, warning Stiles that he'd just persued the wrong line of inquiry.

Lydia pointed her finger at Stiles with a harsh glare. "I'll have you know, I have _never_ colored my hair. Unlike her, who's hair dresser couldn't spot high lights the broad side of a barn, because her hair is a _disaster_." She blew air out of her mouth. " _Pft_ , is my hair color _natural_?"

She folded her arms, and if Stiles hadn't known better he'd could have sworn he'd seen a pout. But Lydia doesn't pout, she _plots_. And as long as her attention was focused on Kate and not any of his manly bits, he would be satisfied to watch her fume and plan out something lucratively evil for Kate.

Jackson and Lydia started discussing whether or not Kate had gotten a nose job gone wrong or if she was born that way. Stiles thought it was a little childish to pick on someone's appearance, especially when Kate's personality was the real problem, but he kept his mouth shut.

As if saying her name had summoned her, Kate came out of Derek's room, holding Derek's hand, attempting to suck his face off as they walked through the living room.

"Speak of the devil, and she shall come," Lydia said.

Derek either didn't hear her or didn't care. He had his back turned to them and Kate stuck her middle finger up where her hand was tangled in Derek's hair.

Luckily Kate quickly excused herself before Lydia could shove Jackson off of her, promising to see Derek tomorrow. Stiles' stomach turned. Derek planned on seeing Kate again? So soon? He'd made Erica wait a week after they got back from San Francisco to meet up again. Stiles wasn't sure if the fact that it was Kate or that he knew he would never have a chance with Derek that made him want to throw up.

Derek made his way onto the couch, mimicking Jackson's position and pressing his back against Stiles' front.

For the first time in fifteen years, Stiles was uncomfortable around Derek. He felt fidgety in his own skin, like Derek would make a wrong move or say something that made Stiles blurt out the truth.

Stiles was terrible at keeping secrets. He'd tattled on himself more than a handful of times when he was a child. It got worse as he grew older, accidentally reminiscing in his latest escapades in earshot of his father. He'd not been pleased to find out that Stiles had been the one responsible for toilet papering Mr. Harris' house. Albeit, he shouldn't have been surprised, his Chemistry teacher had been an asshole. It was justified. Also, funny as hell.

In essence, Stiles knew it would only be a matter of time before Derek noticed his stiff posture and called him on it, and Stiles knew he couldn't lie. He could never lie to Derek. Derek taught him how to lie.

He just needed to talk to someone who knew Derek just as well as Stiles did, who wouldn't blab their mouths to Derek as soon as they got the chance.

Stiles wasn't good with feeling. Everyone thought that just because he liked to talk, that meant he liked to express himself. Stiles just didn't like the silence. He needed to gauge whatever he was feeling towards Derek and make it go away if need be.

Derek didn't _do_ relationships. They freaked him out. He didn't like to be attached to anyone for long periods of time. He didn't like having to answer to anyone.

Stiles knew that if he spilled his guts to Derek and they progressed into anything more than friends that Derek wouldn't want to put up with Stiles for very long. Stiles was all of the things Derek hated in a relationship. He was clingy. He _did_ want someone to answer to him.

Stiles was like an octopus after sex, long limbs wrapped around any part of his partner that he could get his hands on. He didn't like to not know where his boyfriend was. Stiles might have had teeny tiny insecurity issues. Just a little bit. Or maybe a lot. He just liked to be close to the person he chose to spend time with. Derek would kick Stiles to the curb in record time.

And the ending result would be a loss in friendship. Stiles had a hard time dealing with rejection, especially coming from Derek.

All these feelings that had apparently been festering were suddenly suffocating Stiles. He was drowning in them and he didn't know which way was up. _Fuck a duck_.

Stiles snapped out of his thoughts when Lydia spoke.

"I do not like Kate," she announced. "Get rid of her."

Stiles couldn't see Derek's face from where he was sitting, but he knew Derek would raise one of his well sculpted Joe Jonas eyebrows at that. Seriously, get them trimmed.

"I wasn't aware that I was supposed to have your approval."

And was that ever the wrong thing to say. Stiles and Jackson shared a look over Derek's head, both of them wincing at the battle of wits that was sure to ensue.

"You must not know me, then," Lydia said, pursing her lips.

Derek sighed and settled into Stiles, which was not helping Stiles at all. When did Derek get so big? Why was his sleepy, sex mused hair turning him on all of the sudden? Feelings weren't supposed to flip like a switch, he should slowly be noticing all of Derek's little quirks. He wasn't some teenage girl, what the hell?

"I'm too hungover to deal with your shit today, Lydia."

Her face softened when she realized Derek wasn't going to put up much of a fight. "Well then, I guess I'll get out of your hair."

"Lydia, you know I didn't mean it like that."

Jackson stood up and stretched while Lydia moved from her place on the couch.

"Don't flatter yourself, Derek," she said. "Stiles has to drive us to Beacon Hill today. Me leaving has nothing to do with your horrible hospitality."

Aw shit. It'd blown Stiles mind that he had to make a trip back into Beacon Hills today. His parents, the Hale's and Melissa were having a barbecue at five. Lydia had just come down to spend mandatory time with her mother, dragging Jackson along for the ride. And not the fun kind.

Stiles was looking forward to his mom and Stacia's assortment of baked goods and Peter was excellent on the grill.

 _Peter_. That's who he could talk to. Peter was secretly Stiles' favorite Hale, right after Derek. _Of course_. Stiles and Peter were really close, bonding over their love of books and sass. Stiles had gotten several of his best one liners from growing up with Peter. Peter was actually who Stiles came out to first, testing the waters before making the announcement to his parents.

Peter had just smirked at Stiles and said, "Am I supposed to be surprised? Let me know, I have a face for that."

He hadn't seen Peter since Thanksgiving when Peter had brought his fiance Chris to dinner, shocking everyone. Not because he was gay, but because no one even knew he was dating, much less engaged. Chris was a good guy, his serious side gave way to Peter's constant need to banter with someone. And he made really good mashed potatoes, so that was cool.

Stiles was now excited and ready to get on the road. "Up," Stiles commands, moving a grumpy Derek off of his lap. The face he makes shouldn't be as cute —  _oh my god,_  stop it brain.

"Babe," Stiles tried not to shudder at the nickname, "do we have to go?"

Stiles refused to look at him, instead turning to go down the hall to his room. " _We_ don't have to do anything. I'm going."

Stiles opened his bedroom door and saw a sight that he will never have the pleasure of unseeing.

" _ALLISON WHY ARE YOU HAVING SEX ON MY BED?!_ "

"Lydia told me to!"

He covered his eyes and heard actual cackling coming from the kitchen. Cackling, like a with. With a capital B.

"Jackson! Why would you let her do this?!"

Lydia continued to mimic every evil villain in history.

"It was his idea!"

He really needed to finish that application for new friends.

 

/////

"Derek," Stiles' mom exclaimed when the both of them came through the door.

"I'm feeling the love here, mom. Really, it's washing over me."

She kissed Derek on the cheek and patted Stiles' hair, kissing him on the nose. "You know you're my favorite, son."

Stiles smiled at that. "I'm telling Allison you said that, mom."

She winked at him before returning to the kitchen. "And I'll deny every word of it."

"I'm going to find Laura, brat." Derek moved to place a kiss on his forehead but Stiles' moved out of the way at the last second, ignoring Derek's lok of concern.

"Okay, I'll be in the backyard."

Derek was still looking at him funny, he could see it in his peripherals, but Stiles just continued into the kitchen and Derek moved up the stairs.

Stiles passed through the kitchen, accepting hugs and a ribbing from Stacia for not coming to visit her sooner. He apologized, claiming to be busy with school and partying and having a gigantic crush _on her son_. So he didn't say the last part, but it was true. He'd been busy. He loved coming home to see all the people that cared about him, but college was a life sucking black hole of doom and he never had time to do anything but study, drink a few beers with Derek and hang out with Allison and Scott.

He scanned the kitchen, straining his neck to see out the sliding glass doors.

"Peter's outside, munchkin," his mother said, sharing a knowing look with Stacia.

"I wasn't—" he started to protest.

His mom clicked her tongue at him, mixing a bowl of fruit salad. "Don't bother with excuses, Stiles. We know when we're not wanted."

" _Mooom._ "

Stacia hauled him to the back door by his jacket, disregarding the fact that he had legs. Nice legs, thank you high school track, but legs nonetheless.

She opened the door and threw Stiles out of it with an inhumanly amount of strength and a yell. "We caught your stray, brother. Keep him out of the kitchen."

Peter took in Stiles and smiled a slow, lazy grin. "Will do, Stacy. All the good food's on my grill anyhow."

"I'll remember that when I'm serving egg salad."

Peter laughed. "Is that a promise?"

Stacia rolled her eyes and slid the door shut, leaving Peter and Stiles in the backyard. They just looked at each other for a moment before bursting into side-splitting laughter at Stiles' lifeless limbs still laying on the grass where Peter's sister had tossed him out. _Siblings,_ man.

Stiles got up and walked across the yard, throwing his arms around Peter's neck. "Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater!"

Peter reached up to ruffle Stiles' hair. "I missed you, runt."

Stiles stood back, reaching into the cooler to dig a beer out and handing one to Peter. "How've you been? And where's Chris? Don't tell me you've scared him off already."

He snickered, using his teeth to pop the top of his can, flipping over the steaks with a spatula. "I've been splendid." He took a long swig of his beer. "And Chris is at home. He's very tired. We had an exciting night last night."

Stiles choked on his drink. "Oh, man. That's so much more than I ever needed to know about your sex habits."

Peter smirked. "I think that makes us even after the summer of '09. You were quite promiscuous back then."

"Oh my gosh, how do you even _remember_ that?!" Stiles exclaimed. "Sophomore year was such a dark time for me."

"I told you to stop having sex with the lights off. You don't know how many vases I had to replace that year." Peter flipped another steak. "You slept with every gay boy in this town."

"It was three. There were three. Four if you count blow jobs. That's hardly every one of them in the whole town, Peter."

"Beacon Hills is a small town, Stiles."

Stiles hugged him again. "Have I told you how much I missed you? Because I do, I _did._ Also, I have so much to tell you. We might not have time. We can't let my mom hear. Or Stacia. Or anyone." Stiles rambled on. "If I tell you this, you can't tell anyone. This is a secret, Unc. No one knows this."

Peter glanced at him. "Not even Derek."

" _Especially_ not Derek."

Peter transferred the steaks to a plate. "You've peaked my interests, go."

"I'm in love with Derek."

Peter didn't say anything for a while. It was silent. There were crickets. Crickets making cricket-y noises in awkward silence.

Stiles was beginning to wonder if Peter heard him, or if he was being an asshole. Both were viable options. Peter had an immature level of selective hearing and he was prone to be a jerk at times.

Stiles was close to jumping out his skin when Peter pulled two chairs out from beside the grill and sat down.

"Sit," he spoke. "Tell me _everything._ "

Stiles blew out a breath of relief, laughing at his previous thoughts. Of course Peter wasn't ignoring him, he just had a thing for the dramatics.

"I forget how much you love gossip in your old age."

 

/////

 

 

What really chapped Stiles' ass was everyone's lack of surprisement at any announcement he had ever had.

He told them he was gay, no one blinked an eye. He told them he was neglecting his offer to NYU and going to the same college as Allison, Scott and Derek, they shrugged and carried on about their business. He told his dad he was going to move into Derek's apartment, he threw a five at Stiles and asked him to get one of those _shake thingy's_ at McDonald's. Which Stiles did not get because his dad was being a jerk and also old people needed to eat green beans and tossed salad prepared at home, not a strawberry milkshake from the place they slap dead cows on dry bread.

Stiles told Peter last night's story starting from his and Lydia's disagreement and ending at a few moments ago when Stiles flinched away when Derek tried to touch him. Peter slapped Stiles on the back of the head.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Stiles asked, rubbing the spot with his hand.

Peter sighed heavily, leaning back and crossing his arms. "You two could drive a highly respected man to drinking."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "When did you start needing a reason to drink," he asked. "And when did you become a highly respected man? Did I miss that memo? Did you even send out a memo? I need memos, Peter." Stiles barely avoided another slap.

"Stop trying to change the subject. Elusiveness is unbecoming of you."

"Then help me! I don't know what to do." Stiles gestured wildly with his hands. "I am at a loss for wor— _actions._ I'm at a loss for what to do. Do I tell him? Do I hide it? _Will it go away?_ What if it doesn't? Oh my god, Peter. I'm living in an episode of The Young and The Restless. Don't look at me like that, you're the one who used to make me watch it"

"I did no such thing." Peter denied, dodging Stiles' gaze.

"You're a filthy liar, Unc. It was— why do I even care? My life is a poorly written melodrama and I'm the teenage girl pining after her best friend who doesn't date anyone for longer than two seconds, _max._ And I'm going to blurt out how I feel one day and he's going to laugh. He's gonna _laugh_ Peter!"

Peter looked like he was trying to hold back a smile.

"Are you laughing? Are you seriously laughing right now? Peter I will die of embarrassment. You know I don't handle awkward situations well. My tombstone will read Here Lays A Dumb Ass Who Fell In Stupid Love With His Stupidly Beautiful Best Friend, Stupid Huh? And no one will come to visit me. No one but you and all fifty-seven of the cats I'll have."

Peter wasn't even trying to hold back his laughter now.

"Stop! You know I hate cats, well okay I love cats, but I don't want to be the Cat Lady-Man. I love suede pants, Peter. They will ruin all of my suede pants."

Peter had controlled his hysterics. "That would be the least tragic thing in that entire line of events. No one should own suede pants."

Stiles' eyes bugged out in bewilderment because he knew for a _fact_ that Peter had _several_ pairs of corduroy garments. When naming the things in Peter's closet, it was best to start off with what he didn't have. But he most definitely had suede pants. In different colors.

"You own suede pants. You gave me my first pair of suede pants, Peter. How can you say such a thing?"

Peter cleared his throat, laughing at the heart felt words of your sort-of nephew must be hard on the larynx. "What I meant to say was that not everyone can pull off suede pants."

Stiles gasped. "Uh! What are you trying to imply?"

"Whatever you want to be implied."

"I could do without the Rafiki answers, Peter. Everyone should be out here soon enough. And when Derek walks through those doors, he's heading straight for me. I'm like a sexy, irresistible bulls eye. I need to know what to do with that, how to handle that. You know him in a way that I don't." Stiles sighed, the subject bringing his cheeky disposition down a few thousand notches. "I just don't want anything to mess up what we have."

Peter finally got serious, leaning down and resting his elbows on his knees and setting his chin in his hands. "Do you want something more from him? Because Stiles, my nephew would give you the world if you asked."

"I don't want Derek to be with me because he has to," Stiles said.

He chuffed. "Derek's not that kind of man. He'd realize how fragile the situation was."

"You just told me he'd do whatever I wanted."

"That's not what I said." Peter got up, waving Stiles over to the table with the meat on it. He gave Stiles a chuck on hamburger meat to form into patties. "He would give you anything you asked for. You're not selfish enough to ask him for anything that's not in both of your best interests."

"Have you been listening at all? I don't know what our best interests are. That's why I'm _asking_ you." He hammered the meat with his fist. "You're the only one who knows us equally. You can't give biased advice. Well, you can. But I know you wouldn't do that to your favorite nephews. I make you brownies on your birthday. Every year. Help me out here, Petey."

Peter scowled at him. "You know how I loathe that nickname."

"I know you do, Petey."

"Do you want my help or not?"

"I've told you a bajillion times already that I did. Stop making me force feed you compliments. You aren't that wise. You're convenient."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"If you really want my opinion— don't throw things at me, I'm getting to it." Peter snatched Stiles' pile of hamburger patties and began to cook them on the grill. "He's your best friend. Talk to him. Don't roll your eyes, that makes you look like a child."

"What if he laughs at me, or even worse, wants to date me? Or have sex with me, because once he knows I'm available, he'll probably be all over this. I've seen me, I'm hot."

"Remind me how that would be a bad thing, Mr. Modesty?"

"Because your nephew is allergic to relationships. He fucks and ducks. Hits it and quits it. Sticks it then kicks it. You can stop me any time now, I'm running out of analogies."

"Do you want to be in a relationship with him?" Peter asked, pressing the spatula into the meat, making it sizzle.

"I don't know. No. Yes? It's like we are dating. We're just not having sex."

"How so?"

"We cuddle. We kiss, not on the mouth, just like the forehead and stuff. We hold hands. I pick up his dry cleaning. He rubs my feet. We sleep together. We—"

Peter nearly dropped the beer in his hands. "Hold on, what was that? I thought you said you didn't have sex."

"It's just sleeping, you pervert. I swear Peter, _stop being nasty._ "

"You're the nasty one, Stiles."

"Your face is nasty." Stiles retorted.

"Mature."

"Whatever." Stiles sighed. "So you want me to talk to him? That's your great advice?"

"I want you to decide what you want to come from your feelings. Now that you realize they're there, maybe you can move past them."

"That plan has zero chances of working out. Have you seen Derek? He's all over me, he wants me for my bod, Peter. That's hard to ignore."

"You children never listen," he grumbled. "I'm not telling you to ignore it. Confront it. If he knows he's making you uncomfortable, I'm sure he'll back off." Peter hesitated on the last words, seeming to process them in his head as he hears what he's saying out loud.

"Peter."

"Yeah, that sounded much better inmy head. If you tell him to back off, you're going to piss him off. And my nephew is an _excellent_ grudge holder. I remember when you stepped on his Tonka truck. We called that The Silent Summer."

"He never ever played with it! It was just lying around, unused!"

"It was the principle."

Stiles heard his sister's laughter coming from the kitchen, meaning she and Scott were back from Melissa's already, with her and Scott's grandmother in tow.

"I still have to go pick up Lydia and Jackson from her mom's. Derek and I dropped them off before we went to see my dad. Let's move this along, Unc."

Peter threw his beer across the fence and ran his hand over his face, like he was the one with the hard decision to make here and not Stiles. How selfish. He took a deep breath and continued.

"Figure out what you want from him. That's my advice. He'll give you anything you ask for, you know that. Just weigh out the pros and cons of each situation." He grabbed Stiles by the back of the neck in what Stiles assumed was supposed to be an affectionate manner. It wasn't. "Act normal. Keep doing what you two have been doing. Don't let him call you out on it before you're ready to tell him. My nephew can be very persuasive."

Stiles nudged Peter with his hip. "I wonder where he got that from."

"From his mother, of course."

" _Of course._ "

"Hush, I'm trying to channel my serious side here."

"How's that—"

Peter cupped Stiles' mouth with his hands, shutting him up.

"But don't take too long Stiles. I'm warning you, harboring those feelings and keeping secrets is playing with fire. Make up your mind before you both get burned." Peter removed his hand from Stiles' face. "There, I'm done. I thought that was pretty good. What'd you think?"

"You earned yourself a round of applause, Rafiki. Take a bow." Stiles deadpanned, the corners of his mouth betraying him when he couldn't help but smile at Peter.

Peter tapped his chin with his hands like he was thinking something over. "Does that make you Simba or Nala? You're a bottom, right? And I know Derek's a top. So Nala?"

"I hate you. I don't know why I even come to you with these things."

"Rafiki is all knowing, princess."

Stiles gave Peter the middle finger for his troubles and walked back inside.

 

/////

 

 

The backyard barbecue was in full swing. Stiles had just arrived with Lydia and Jackson, Lydia gravitating immediately towards the ladies in the kitchen and Jackson going outside, needing some fresh air and alone time after an hour with Lydia's parents. Stiles couldn't blame him, they'd always been hard on him, no one being good enough for their precious little girl. _If only they knew._

All the girls, _er,_  women, were in the kitchen. Stiles wasn't trying to be sexist but that's where they were, chatting and gossiping about any and every thing they'd missed out on in each other's lives since they'd all seen one other last.

Laura joined them, passing by Stiles with a playful punch to the shoulder that still hurt like a bitch. Nice to see some things never changed. Fifteen years later and she still hit like a man.

Allison shoved Scott outside with Peter, which wasn't one of her more brilliant ideas seeing as they didn't always get along so swimmingly. She, Stacia and Scott's grandma, Maria, were placing bets on when Scott would pop the question. Stiles needed to find out from Scott and get in on that bet, he'd make money hand over fist.

His mother and Laura were transferring all the food into bowls and Stiles prayed for his own sake that Laura had grown past her phase to do sick and twisted things to the food she knew only her brother and Stiles would be eating, like the deviled eggs. He doubted it, but there wasn't an amount of spit in the world that would stop Stiles from getting all up in that. Deviled eggs were heaven sent. Sent from heaven. A little bit of irony there since they were called _devil_ ed eggs, but Stiles refused to believe otherwise.

Melissa and Lydia were sitting at the table, discussing some hair curler thing that Stiles was proud he knew absolutely nothing about. His man card was tucked safely in his wallet, thank you very much. He was gay, not queer. Melissa and Lydia had always gotten along well. What they bonded over, Stiles had no clue, but he was glad Lydia had a motherly figure to talk to every now and then. He knew they talked even with Lydia in New York, he smiled at that.

Stiles was standing in the door of the kitchen, taking in his crazy family, waiting on his dad to arrive. He should be off his shift any minute now. The ladies weren't paying attention to him, all wrapped up in their own conversations, but he didn't mind. He was glad that they were all getting along.

"Why are you being a creeper?" Stiles jumped when a twin set of arms wrapped around his middle and rested on his stomach. Fucking Derek.

"I. Um, I'm not. Not being a creeper." Stiles mumbled, completely aware that he was on the verge of a ramble. "Just watching. From afar. That actually might be the definition of creeping. But I'm not. Creeping, that is. Nope."

Derek chuckled, and why did it sound so handsome? Chuckles are supposed to remind Stiles of a fat man in a red suit with an atrocious fur-trimmed hat. Why was Derek's chuckle hot? Why was Derek's anything hot? He was blaming Stacia and Jake for this. It was their fault. Fucking Hale genes.

He chuckled and kissed the back of Stiles' head, and it took World Record Willpower to not jump out of his skin at that. Peter told him to act normal. Running away and hiding himself away in the bushes was not acting normal. Okay, maybe it was for Stiles. No one would really be surprised, but it would alert Derek that something was up. _Don't let him call you out before you're ready,_ Peter had said. He's getting a new psychic monkey. His sucks.

Derek was about to say something when Stacia glanced up at them. "Boys would you— _aw,_ aren't you two cute? Look Zayla, Derek is cuddling his little Stiles." Stiles was about to pop an vein in his eye due to his efforts to try to mentally open a hole in the floor that either he or Stacia would be sucked up into. He wasn't picky about which one, really.

Lydia clicked her tongue. "Mm mm mm, you can't do that anymore. Stiles has a _booooyfriend._ " She rolled her eyes. "And Derek has a thing."

Lydia was now on the list of People Who Could Be Sucked Into A Giant Whole On The Floor And Never Return Again.

The whole kitchen _ooooh_ 'ed at the news. Fucking gossipy hens.

"Stiles, Derek, is this true? Are you two dating? Other people?" Stiles could hint just the slightest bit of sarcasm in his mom's voice and he was totally taking back the scarf he had given her for Christmas. He'd already made up his mind.

"I hardly think a one night stand qualifies as a boyfriend, Mrs. S," Derek said, grinning smugly into Stiles' shoulder.

In order to save face in front of the whole freaking universe, Stiles just went along with it. Ian said they could be friends with benefits, right? Stiles doubted he would mind if Stiles told his mom that they were dating. It would get her off his back. And Allison. And Lydia. And Stacia. _And Derek._

"Speak for yourself, mister," Stiles said, poking Derek in the cheek. "I've got a date with Ian next week."

Another chorus of _ooooh_ 's.

Derek stiffened behind him. "Well I'm seeing Kate tomorrow."

Way to inadvertently hit Stiles in the gut, Derek. It wasn't his fault, he didn't even know Stiles had feelings for him. Stiles didn't even know he had feelings for Derek twenty four hours ago. Didn't make it hurt any less.

"Oh," he said. "That's cool."

"You're not bringing her to the house, I'm not dealing with her two days in a row, Derek." Lydia spoke up from the kitchen and Stiles internally groaned because he did not need World War III to break out on top of everything else.

"Lydi—" he began.

"I don't need your fucking permission to bring people to my apartment, Lydia," Derek spat, and from the gasps in the kitchen, Stiles knew that this wasn't going to end well.

" _Derek._ " Stiles wasn't sure if he, Stacia, Maria, Melissa or his mom said it first, but Derek shoved off Stiles of and tucked tail before rushing past everyone out to the backyard.

Dammit.

Stiles looked at Lydia, who's face seemed too satisfied for his liking.

"Lydia."

She shrugged. " _What,_ you don't like Kate either, don't Lydia me."

"What's wrong with her?" Stacia asked.

Laura spoke around a mouthful of sweet potato casserole. "Knowing Derek she's probably a Level 5 Clinger. Or ugly. Or just a bitch."

Allison ignored the grown up's scolding and gave Laura a high-five. "Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner."

"Now girls, she can't be that bad."

Allison shook her head. "No Maria, she's clingy and rude. Make Derek take off his shirt, he looks like he got attacked by a vacuum cleaner."

Stacia covered her ears. "Please don't tell me anything about my son's sex life. Please, don't."

Laura rolled her eyes. "Hickies aren't sex, mom."

"It still counts."

"Whatever."

Melissa looked up from braiding Lydia's hair. "I don't know why he doesn't start dating guys again. The girls he finds are just horrible."

Stiles protested, "Hey! Erica's not bad. She's the best."

"You only think that because she helped you get laid."

"Shut up, Alli."

"Make me."

Zayla slapped both of her kids on the back of the head on her way to the refrigerator. "Both of you shut up."

Laura popped up on the kitchen counter. "Derek's not dating boys because Stiles isn't available." She chewed on whatever food she had in her mouth and winked when Stiles flipped her off.

"Nope," Lydia said, using her make-up compact to examine her new braids, "that ship has sailed. Ian is _way_ hotter than Derek."

"My son is pretty handsome, Lydia. Pictures or it didn't happen, isn't that what you kids say?"

"I have them right here, Stacia."

" _Allison!_ When'd you take pictures?! You were wasted!"

"Are my underage children drinking? Am I hearing this right?"

"Erica took them. She sent them to me this morning."

"I take back what I said earlier. Erica is not the best. She is the very, very _worst._ "

"Ooooh, he's cute, Stiles!"

"Let me see! Oh, _son_. He's handsome. Good job on bagging that."

"I hate you all."

 

/////

 

  
"I'm sorry Lydia keeps giving you shit about Kate."

"Don't worry about it, you didn't start it."

"I don't like her either."

"I don't like Ian, so we're even."

"That's fair, I guess."

"Mhm."

"Don't be mad at me."

"I—. I'm not mad, just frustrated."

"I'm sorry, man."

"It's whatever. No big deal."

"Derek, if it's bugging you it's a big deal to me."

"I'm fine, Stiles."

"Derek."

"What? Fine. I don't know. Is it fucked up that I want to date Kate even more because Lydia hates her?"

" _Yes._ That is fucked up."

"I thought so."

"You don't date."

"I know."

"So what's the deal? What makes Kate so special?"

"Nothing, really."

"Then why waste your time? Why not save your awesome dating skills for someone who's worth it?"

"No one else is available. Plus, she's an easy catch."

"She's not a fish, Derek."

"Got a mouth like one."

"If that's a dick sucking joke, I'm leaving you in this garage by yourself. You will be _alone._ "

"Bye, then."

"Be serious, Derek. Are you really taking her on a date tomorrow?"

"Why, jealous?"

"No! I mean, no. I have a date. Ian. He's hot. Hotter than Kate."

"I'm into boobs right now, so."

"But you're not denying he's hot."

"I have eyes."

"Cool. Thanks, I guess. Kate's hot too, if you're into that sort of thing."

"What sort of thing?"

"Pussy."

" _God,_ I hate that word, Stiles. Say something different."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, just not that word. Hate that word."

"What about Snatch? Or maybe Coochie? Crotch? Tuna Town? Penis Fly Trap? _Love Muffin?_ "

"Okay, you can stop now."

" _Meatball Sub Stub,_ that's a good one. Penis Parking Lot. Female _Genitalia._ Okay, I have better ones than that."

"Stiles, you made your point."

"Weiner Wagon. _Lovin'_ Oven. _Yeast Infection Connection._ _The_ Other _White Meat._ "

"Stiles!"

"Next to the Butt Hut? Don't hit me, that was my last one! Derek, get _off_ me. Derek, stop. _I have to pee!_ Derek I will not be responsible for my actions if you tickle me. Derek, don't. Derek, I am a grown man. _Derek!_ I will _pee_ on you, I'm serious. _Derek!_ "

"Do I even want to know?"

"Dad, I swear it's no what it looks like."

"Sorry, Sheriff."

"Stiles, did you pee on yourself?"

"I had like, _three_ glasses of lemonade!"

"Did you really pee?! That's hilarious."

"I'm moving out. We're no longer friends. I'm taking the couch with me. I'll be out by the third."

"I had sex with Erica on that couch."

"Never mind, you can have it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what'cha think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gear up for some angst. Well, it's angst to me. I hope I wrote to your liking. If you're looking for something deep and dark, check out a fic I wrote today for whatthehale. It seems well liked, maybe you'd like to read it? Any how, here it is! I love reading and responding to comments, so leave as many or as few as you'd like!

The rest of the Hale-Stilinksi and friends get together was better than the first half. Derek and Lydia made up over Peter's baby back ribs and that was the end of that. They'd even teamed up to tackle the deviled eggs together before Stiles had time to get to them. The only satisfaction he got out of it was the sly grin Laura had given him across the yard, telling him that he probably didn't want to eat them anyway. God, he loved Laura.

Derek's dad had arrived from his shift at the hospital, telling Melissa she had the next day off if she wanted it. She jumped at the chance. All the women had a shopping trip planned, and she'd been bummed about missing it, but now she wouldn't. Stiles had never been more happy to not be attracted to anything with a vagina because the ladies were dragging their men along to carry the bags much to their chagrin.

Sties tried to stick pretty close to Peter, dodging Derek's advance with excuses to refill his drink or go to the bathroom. Derek only pouted a little bit.

The only fuss was when Allison and Jackson couldn't decide which of them were going to get the last slice of apple pie. Laura had solved it by picking up the whole slice and shoving it in her mouth before either of them had a chance to stop her. Did he mention how much he loved Laura? That needed to be mentioned. Framed. _Put on a wall._

Stiles was now on his couch, the same couch he slept on last night, bemoaning his generosity to give Jackson and Lydia his bed so he could bunk with Derek. Safe to say he watched Charmed until the wee hours of the night, blaming Alyssa Milano and Holly Marie Combs' superb acting for him not being able to make it to bed. He was eating some left over chicken parm. He needed to get Erica to make this again. Stiles' stomach needed more of this in it's life.

Allison and Lydia were getting ready to go shopping with the 'rents. Jackson and Scott were waiting on campus, trying to prolong their freedom for as long as possible.

Stiles had texted Ian earlier, needing to make sure it was okay to tell people they were dating to get the heat off of Stiles. Ian didn't have a problem with it. He liked it, said it would give them more of a reason to hang out. Stiles was pleased. He liked Ian. Well, he liked _looking_ at Ian, but he was nice to talk to as well, he had to admit. He felt like they might be good friends. Only time will tell and all that bullshit.

Stiles tried to hang out with Erica, but she was busy with Boyd. Apparently they had gotten their shit together. He hoped Erica was good to him, or at least tried to move things past friends with benefits. Boyd was a nice guy, quiet and reserved, but fun to be around. Hopefully he could handle the giant fucking hurricane that was Erica.

Isaac and Danny couldn't be reached. No one had heard from Isaac since he answered the phone New Year's Eve night and told Stiles to stop calling him because he was _busy._ Wink wink. Nudge nudge.

So Stiles left him alone. Power to the nookie, my friend.

That left Stiles all by his self. Usually he'd hang out with Derek when everyone left Stiles alone to be coupled up and all that lovey dovey Disney crap, but he was going out with Kate.

Yes. _Alert the press._ Derek Hale was going on a date. An actual date.

Derek. On a date. With Kate.

Stiles tried to keep his leftovers from coming up his throat.

He pretended like it didn't annoy the holy hell out of him to see Derek getting dressed and cleaning up the house for when she came over. He wasn't sure of he was doing an okay job, but no one had commented on his lack of babbling so he figured he was in the clear.

He'd taken Peter's advice into consideration. But deciding if you want to potentially blow the best friendship you've ever had clear out of the water... Well, it was longer than a 24 hour process. He didn't really have anything to go on that made him think he and Derek would last. Holding hands and touching and being clingy was different when you knew you had no romantic ties to that person. He didn't want to be another notch in Derek's bed post. Or hole in his wall. Because he didn't have a bedpost. Just a regular headboard. That made holes in the wall. Cool.

"Stiiiles?" One of the girls called from down the hall.

"Whatever you want, there's a 9 out of 10 chance I'm going to say no. You've been warned. Proceed."

Lydia walked out of Stiles' bedroom with Allison in tow, plopping on his lap and draping her arms around his neck.

"Pretty, pretty please come with us?" She asked, batting her eyelashes all cutesy at Stiles, as if that's what would make him cave. Wrong play. Wrong _team._

"As fun as that sounds, I think I'll have to pass." He tried to eat around her, but it wasn't working. So he set his fork on his plate and leaned back.

"You're going to be bored out of your mind. And my things are here, I don't want you to do something crazy when you're all by yourself. I just bought that luggage."

Stiles tried to lie his way out of this situation, hoping Lydia wasn't as in the loop as he was. "I'm not going to be alone, Erica's coming over. And even if I was alone, I'm not going to sexually harass you luggage. Or throw it in a pool. One, I'm not a cast member of The Bad Girl's club. Two, we don't have a pool."

Lydia shook her finger in Stiles' face before poking him in the dimples. " _Uh uh uh,_ I know Erica's not coming over, because Jackson called Boyd to get him to come along and he said he was with her. Liar face."

Busted.

"You're so mature, Lydia. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Come with us."

Stiles looked over Lydia's shoulder, hoping his sister would help him out here, but she just shrugged her shoulders and started flipping through stations. The horror. What was the world coming to when your own flesh and blood would leave you out to dry.

"I uh... Ian's coming over. Yeah, I just have to tell him a time."

That seemed to get their attention.

Allison moved from her place on the couch cushions to the back of the couch, so she could join the conversation.

"Will there be dating involved? Or is it just hanging out?"

"I don't know, Allicat. You'll have to wait and see. Oh, you won't be here, will you? You're going on a shopping spree. For clothes you'll wear once before they find their way to the back of your closet. I _so_ don't get girls."

Lydia pinched his cheek. "My wittle Stiley Wiley is growing up."

Stiles slapped her hands away, his face red. "Shut up."

Allison laughed. If Stiles grinned when she almost fell off the couch, no one had to know.

"No! It's cute, you two are cute. He's a really good guy." She blew her bangs off her face. "Just be careful, he got out of a really serious relationship. I don't want you to be a rebound."

Stiles didn't really mind, because they weren't actually dating, but he needed to convince them that he did.

"Really? How long?"

Stiles tried not to roll his eyes or fall asleep as Allison told him all about Paul and Ian and she and Lydia began to discuss the downfalls of rebound relationships.

"Are you listening, Stiles?"

Stiles nodded his head vigorously. "Yes, Lydia."

She sighed, climbing off his lap. "You're lying." She squinted her eyes at him.

"So are you guys hanging out, or _hanging out?_ " Allison asked.

"I wasn't aware that there was a difference."

Lydia walked to the kitchen, her phone in her hand. "Oh sweetie, there is definitely a difference."

Allison nodded her agreement, leaning over to take a bite of Stiles' food. "Yup, and if you hadn't already had sex with him, I'd tell you not to put out on the first date."

"Not everyone can have a life long monogamous relationship like you, Allicat." He stole the fork from her. "And stop eating all my food, you pig."

"If you'd give us a ride to my dorm, we'd be out of you hair."

"Bribery does not work on me, ladies."

"If you leave now, you won't have to be here when Kate gets here to go on her date with Derek."

"Sold. Let me grab my keys."

Lydia laughed. "You're too easy."

 

/////

 

 

Stiles had totally fibbed about Ian coming over, so instead of being the only person on the invite list at his pity party, Stiles decided to appreciate his infrequent alone time and get some reading done. But Stiles attention span was about two inches wide and he ended up turning on reruns of White Collar, because _Matt Bomer._ There doesn't need to be an explanation there because _Matt Bomer._

He was in the middle of season three when his phone rang.

"Hello? City Morgue, you stab 'em, we bag 'em." He answered, snicking at his own humor. What? That was funny.

"Nice to know you've gotten more mature since I last talked to you."

"Erica? What do you want, I thought you and Boyd we're busy, you know uh, _getting_ busy."

Stiles couldn't see it, but he knew she was rolling her eyes.

"He's getting ready for work in an hour. I'm bored. I just realized I have no friends in this town."

"Nice to know I'm the last resort. Why don't you just go back to school?"

She laughed. "You know I love you, brat. Come pick me up, I don't want to go back to campus yet."

"Why not? You have friends there."

"They're boring," she explained. "You're fun, come get me. Or I can have Boyd drop me off. Either one."

"Come over and we'll watch White Collar," he suggested.

"Oh, Matt Bomer?"

"Yes ma'am," he replied, snickering at her excitement.

"I'll be there in like, twenty minutes flat."

 

/////

 

  
Erica and Stiles were lounging on the couch, admiring Neal Caffery's bone structure when Derek and Kate came through the door, Kate giggling on Derek's arm. Stiles and Erica shared a look before turning back to the television, pressing the volume up louder.

Despite their obvious efforts to ignore the couple, they still came into the living room, arms hung all over each other. Kate moved Erica's legs to make room for her and Derek to sit at the opposite end of the couch from where Stiles and Erica were snuggled up.

Stiles had to keep a firm arm around Erica's shoulders keep her seated rather than let her go and watch Kate fly across the apartment floor. Though that would probably make Stiles' day, he was trying to be a better person. It was a New Year's Resolution of his. We'll see how well that works out.

Stiles tried to make conversation. "So what are you two crazy kids up to tonight?"

Kate beamed, apparently glad that she had someone to gush her plans to. Stiles wished on every shooting star that this wouldn't be a long exchange of words.

"Oh, well _we,_ " she leaned into Derek, "just got back from this restaurant across town. And we're just going to queue movies from Netflix." She paused to preen, much to Stiles' displeasure. "And maybe have a candle light bath."

"Wow," Erica gave Kate a blank look, "that sounds like a fire hazard. But what's some 3rd degree burns on a Wednesday night?" She lifted a shoulder. "No biggie."

Stiles tried to turn a laugh into a cough, but from the look Kate was giving him, he knew he didn't succeed.

"It's _romantic,_ " Kate snapped.

"It's _stupid,_ " Erica snapped right back.

"Girls—"

"I'm sorry you weren't good enough to be taken out on dates, but don't take it out on me."

 _Oh shit._ The cat had been let out of the bag. Derek and Stiles' eyes widened, Stiles jumping to his feet and pulling Erica with him in an attempt to get the both of them into his room.

"You little—" Erica yelled.

"Okay, okay, good seeing you guys, we're just going to uh, go to my room. Have a great night." Stiles used all his strength, Erica was a lot stronger than she looked, to get her into his room. He didn't even register the obscenities the girls were relaying back and forth and he pushed her into his room and locked the door behind him.

Erica went limp in his hands as soon as the door was closed, yelling out things like _bitch_ and _you just wait_ as she sat on his bed and picked up and old issue of Vanity Fair. It was Lydia's, _obviously._ Because Stiles didn't read Vanity Fair. He read manly magazines like Men's Fitness or whatever. He did.

Erica was still screaming horrible words at the top of her lungs, calmly flipping through pages.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked, genuinely wanting to know.

She peered up over the cover. "Me?" she questioned.

"No, Casper the friendly ghost sitting next to you. Yes, you."

"Oh," she shrugged, "you looked uncomfortable down there. Figured this was the best way to get out of there."

Did she know? About Stiles liking Derek? She couldn't know. The only person who knew was Ian. And Peter. Neither of them had any ties to Erica. And he'd been trying really hard to act normal around Derek lately. He'd even let Derek give him a kiss that morning while they were making bowls of cereal. And he hadn't flinched once. At least where Derek could see.

"I wasn't uncomfortable," he mumbled.

Erica closed her eyes for a brief moment and shook her head before laying back on Stiles' pillows. "You might have everyone else fooled, but I can see your monster hard-on for Derek a mile away."

"What?!" Stiles looked down at his pants. He was tent free. "I don't not have a boner, least of all for Derek." He hoped she would ignore the hitch in his voice. He knew he was ignoring it.

"Fat liar. You and the rest of the Funky Bunch all hate Kate because she's swooping in on your territory."

"I— _what?_ We are not!" Stiles sputtered. "She's not swooping in on anything!"

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "I call bullshit." She turned another page. "The second she set eyes on Derek, you all started spazzing out."

Stiles joined her on the bed. "Because she's a bitch."

"She's really not, you don't even know her."

Stiles pursed his lips. "And you do?"

"No, but I know she's just trying to have a good time, and you guys won't give her a break."

"You just got done yelling at her!"

"I told you, I was doing that for you. You lock up whenever the two of them come into the room together. It's not your fault you're in love with the guy."

"I can't help it," Stiles whispered. His facade was up, with Erica at least. He might as well tell her the truth. It would be good to get it off his chest at this point.

She threw down her magazine. "Woah, you're admitting it now? What did I miss?"

"It was New Year's Eve, after Ian and I decided to just be friends. I wasn't even sad, all I could think of was _at least I have Derek._ Pathetic, right?"

Erica shook her head and laid down beside Stiles, tucking her head into his chest.

"No, babe, you're not pathetic, you're in love." She stroked his hair. "What did he say when you talked to him about it?"

Stiles stayed quiet.

"You talked to him, didn't you?" She sighed when Stiles didn't say anything. "God, you boys are so _stupid._ "

"I think I will, tonight," he said. "When Kate goes home, or to bed. Whatever."

She nodded into his chest. "That's a good idea, get that bitch out of here as soon as possible."

Stiles laughed into her temple, "I thought you liked her?"

"No, I was trying to seem like the bigger person."

They shared a comfortable silence, both of them reflecting on their thoughts.

Erica spoke up. "Is it weird that everyone in the apartment at this moment either _wants to_ or _has_ had sex with Derek?"

"Not really, he's hot," Stiles answered into her shirt.

She mumbled her agreement and curled her knees into her chest, jabbing Stiles' ribs in the process.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah, Erica?"

"When you have sex with Derek, you better tell me first."

"Deal."

 

/////

 

  
Stiles was hungry. His stomach was about to gobble up his liver. Or something like that. He was just hungry. Erica was asleep on his arm. They'd fallen asleep in his bed shortly after Lydia had sent him a text that she and Jackson were staying with Allison and Scott at the McCall's with plans to trek another mall in the morning. Stiles felt bad for Scott and Jackson, shopping sucked. If Lydia and Allison would let him get away with sweats and a cleverly worded graphic tee, he would never set foot in a shopping mall again in his life. But they didn't and he couldn't so he felt their pain.

Stiles removed his arm from underneath Erica's head, flexing his arm when he got the tinglies. _Those hurt like a bitch._ They fell asleep with the lights on, so he turned them off on his way out the door.

To his surprise, Derek was in the living room, sans Kate, watching Family Guy. Stiles' weakness for Stewie exceeded his hunger and immediate discomfort of being around Derek right now. So he walked over and sat on the arm of the couch.

Derek jumped. "Shit, I didn't hear you come out of your room."

Stiles smiled, "I'm a ninja."

Derek laughed and sat up, reaching to pull Stiles toward him, but Stiles got up just in time, muttering something about getting food from the kitchen. And because God hates him, Derek got up to follow.

He was at the counter, pouring milk into his Apple Jack's when Derek came behind him and put his hand on the small of Stiles' back in a passing effort to put the cereal box back in the top cabinet. Stiles ducked out of the way and sat at the island, hoping the dismissal wasn't as obvious as he felt it was.

Stiles could see the start of a question on Derek's face, so he beat him to the punch. "Where's Kate?"

Derek stood opposite him and chewed a mouthful of disgusting granola mush, nodding his head towards the hallway. "In my room."

"Oh." Smooth Stiles, real smooth. James Bond smooth. Really.

"Yeah," Derek took another bite, "I tired her out. Lydia said you had a date with Ian while I was gone."

Stiles snorted to keep from crying because he was now some big emotional baby in need of serious help and maybe a purse to match his ever-growing vagina. "I didn't hear any noises that made me want to drain bleach through my earlobes."

If he purposely ignored Derek's line of inquiry about his date, Derek didn't seem to notice.

"We did it in the tub."

And if Stiles ever needed any reason to never tell Derek about his feelings for him, it was that smirk that graced his face. That look in his eyes, like he got pleasure out of defiling some random girl in the bathtub of the apartment they shared. Why would Stiles be any different? What would make him so special that Derek wouldn't go tell these stories to Jackson and Boyd, that same crooked grin on his face?

It was a lost cause, and Stiles should just move on. He made his mind up right there, taste buds full of cinnamon-y deliciousness and eyeful of that smarmy glint in Derek's eye. He would get over these stupid ridiculous feelings for Derek, so he wouldn't have to lose him as a friend, and try to start over new with someone else. Maybe Ian. They were both working on getting overs someone, why not do it together? They both deserved to be happy, why not with each other?

After two days, Stiles was already emotionally drained from dealing with whatever he was dealing with when it came to Derek. He would suck it up and revert their relationship into a semi-normal friendship and get over it. He could do it. It would be hard, but better than losing Derek completely.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Stiles hadn't even realized Derek sneak up behind him. Hell, he hadn't even realized Derek was finished eating. He rested his chin on Stiles' shoulder and Stiles jerked, a plausible reaction, knocking Derek in the cheek with his own chin.

"What the fuck, Stiles?" Derek demanded. "What the hell is your problem lately?"

Stiles tried to shrug it off, glad Derek gave him enough space to climb down from his seat and pour his leftover milk in the sink.

"Don't shrug your shoulders at me like you don't know what I'm talking about."

Stiles spun, pointing to the bedroom hallway. "Shut _up,_ you're going to wake up everybody in the whole house."

Derek furrowed his brows. "So? I don't care. I want to know what's going on with you." He walked forward, bringing his hands up to wrap around Stiles' waist, but Stiles moved out of the way, backing himself up into the kitchen counter, looking down, trying not the meet the hurt look in Derek's eyes.

"See?" Derek yelled. " _That_ right there. Why can't I touch you? Did I do something wrong?"

It killed Stiles to think that he had hurt Derek's feelings, made him think that _he_ was the one to do something wrong. It wasn't his fault Stiles was in love with him. It wasn't his fault that Stiles couldn't get his thoughts together.

"No, Derek," he surged forward to cup Derek's face with his hands. "It's nothing, okay?"

Derek placed his hands at Stiles' hips, and Stiles cursed himself when he locked up.

Derek jerked away from his touch, mirroring what Stiles had done moments ago.

"Don't tell me it's nothing when you keep doing it!"

"Stop yelling at me!"

Derek looked him in the eye. "Then tell me what's wrong!"

Stiles had never responded well at yelling.

"Your girlfriend is in the next room and you want to be all over me! You don't get to have both! I'm not the whore you run to when you don't want to cuddle with the trash you bring in here!"

Stiles didn't mean it. He didn't mean for the words to cross his lips, it was a defense mechanism. He didn't know what else to say. _No, Derek, you can't touch me because I might lean into it a little too much and try force my feelings down your throat. Want to cuddle now?_ Didn't think so.

Derek looked confused, and wasn't that just rich. "What does she have to do with anyth— Is this about Ian? Is he giving you shit about this? Us? Because he can fuck off, Stiles. It's been like this for forever."

Stiles almost forgot that he had rused into everyone's mind that he and Ian were a couple.

"Don't blame Ian for this, this has nothing to do with him, Derek."

"Don't bring Kate into it, if I can't bring your boyfriend into it."

And that was the icing on the cake.

"She's your girlfriend, now?" Stiles couldn't put enough emphasis on how much he hated the fact that his voice sounded so small.

Derek took a while to respond.

"Yeah," he said, "she is."

"Good." Stiles swallowed the frog that was making a home in his throat. "All the more reason to keep your hands to yourself."

"This is how we've always been, Stiles!"

"Well I don't want it to be this way anymore, Derek. _Damn!_ Take a hint," Stiles shouted.

"Fuck you, Stiles." Derek said harshly, curling his lip at Stiles. "If you don't like it, leave. I don't need you here, I never have. If you don't want me in your space, move the fuck out."

"You asked me to move in with you!"

"I didn't ask you for anything. You followed me here."

"Bullshit, Derek. This has been the plan all along. We swore we'd go to college together when we were in middle school."

"You're the one that wants things to change when you get a boyfriend, Stiles."

"That's not what I meant, Derek. I lo—"

"Just get out."

Stiles gasped, shocked that Derek would ever say that to him. _This_ is what he was scared of. This is what he feared the most. Pissing Derek off, losing him because he had some stupid crush that he couldn't get over. Derek's knee-jerk reaction being to cut Stiles out of his life.

"Fine," he picked up his keys that were sitting on the kitchen counter, "if that's what you want."

Stiles moved to storm by Derek, but he grabbed Stiles by the arm, refusing to let him pass.

"Stiles, I didn—"

"Derek, let go of me." He whispered, praying that Derek didn't hear how weak he sounded.

A door slammed and Stiles used Derek's surprise as an opprotunity to get away. He didn't get very far before Derek got a hold on his hips and Erica barged into the kitchen.

"What the hell is going on in here," she yelled, freezing at the tear that had fallen on Stiles' cheek.

"Go back—"

"Derek, _please_ let me go," Stiles sobbed, unable to control the other tears from running down his face.

Kate ambled in, in nothing but one of Derek's old tee-shirts and that made Stiles cry even more, hating himself for letting all of this work him up so much.

"What is everyone yelling about," Kate asked.

Erica turned and glared. "Mind your own fucking business."

She came all the way into the kitchen, snatching Stiles from Derek's grip and catching him when he fell forward, not strong enough to hold himself up. She ran her hand over his back and tried to calm him down. He had no idea why he was crying. He was being _stupid._ But to let Kate and Derek see him this way made his shoulders shake even more.

She shushed him, whispering things that didn't really have a meaning in his ear. She asked him if he had his keys and he nodded. She grabbed his hand and lead him to the front door, shouldering by Derek when he tried to block her path.

Derek took Stiles' hand in his as he walked by.

"Stiles, don't leave. I'm sorry." The anguish in his voice stabbed Stiles directly in the heart. But Derek asked him to leave. He may have said it in anger but he still _said_ it. It still rang true in Stiles' ears that Derek wanted him gone. Maybe just for right now, but gone nonetheless. "Please, baby. Don't go."

And Stiles would have stayed. He really would have. If it wasn't for _her._ Kate sidled up to Derek, in nothing but his shirt. The same shirt that Stiles used to wear when he shared the bed with Derek. The same bed that he let women come and go out of. Making him no different from her. And that's something Stiles never wanted to be to Derek. They would get past this, Stiles would get over this. But knowing if he started a relationship with Derek that he would be the equivalent to Kate? To all the girls before her? That make Stiles want to throw up.

So he watched as Kate stood there, a smile on her face, looking at Stiles like she _knew_. Like this was personal enjoyment for her. It made Stiles' choice a little more easy.

He brought Derek's knuckles up to his mouth and kissed them, whispering his apologies, noticing that Derek was crying too.

"I'm sorry," he laughed. "It's my time of the month."

Derek pulled Stiles out of Erica's arms and into his own, placing kisses in Stiles' hair, croaking words and phrases that hurt Stiles more than he would ever know. _I love you_ and _don't leave me_ and _I'm sorry_ and _don't go_ and _I didn't mean it._

He peered up and Derek, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I have to get out of here, just for a while. I'll be back."

"No," Derek pleaded, tightening his hold on Stiles. "Stay. We'll talk about it, I didn't _mean_ it Stiles."

Stiles moved his head up and down. "I know, Derek. I just need some time to think. I'm coming right back."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise, Derek." Stiles kissed his throat, relishing in the fact that this would be the last time he would allow himself to have this. "I promise I'll be back."

He tore himself from Derek and it took more energy than he had left in him. Derek pried the keys from his hands and threw them at Erica. "Don't let him drive like this," he said. "don't let him get hurt."

Stiles was out of the door in an instant, not caring to hear the rest of the conversation.

"I think you've already done an excellent job of that, Derek," Erica hissed.

But Stiles didn't hear that part. Nor did he hear the thump as Derek hit the ground and bawled his eyes out, wondering why he'd just let the only person he'd ever loved walk out the door.

But as previously mentioned, Stiles didn't hear that.

 

/////

 

 

Stiles didn't come home. At least not for a while. It wasn't intentional. _It wasn't._ He just needed some time. And space. He needed to sort out whatever this thing inside of him was, so he could get rid of it and go back to Derek, healthy and happy and not heartbroken. _Insert loss of man card right here, please._

Erica had driven him to Boyd's, his shift was over and his apartment was the only place Erica knew the directions to. Stiles wonders why Boyd and Erica never hooked up in high school or earlier in college because they seemed pretty domestic after being together a little over forty-eight hours. Erica pounded on the door and Boyd opened it sleepily, waking up at the sight of Stiles' bloodshot, tear-stained eyes, welcoming them in and offering Erica a hug and Stiles a clap on the back in passing.

Boyd was cool about it, he didn't pry or ask Stiles why he was upset, and Stiles made a note to start hanging out with Boyd more, because he was cooler than Stiles originally gave him credit for.

He'd stopped crying on the ride over, and he just wanted to sleep. He could think in the morning. He'd left his phone at the house, cursing himself when he reached to call Allison and his phone wasn't there. Luckily Boyd had her number, and Stiles shot off a text, asking her if he could crash at her dorm when she got home the next day. Allison said yes, and asked him why Derek had just called Laura, yelling and asking questions about him. Stiles pretended to be oblivious and gave Boyd's phone back, lying on the couch, falling asleep immediately.

That was three days ago.

In that time, every one of Stiles' friends had been to Allison's dorm, asking questions, seeking answers to why he and Derek weren't talking. Wanting to know what went down between them. Why Derek was only talking to Kate and Laura. Why Stiles would only talk to Erica, Ian and Allison. Stiles kept his mouth shut and his head down and Erica and Allison did the same. He knew he was being immature. But when wasn't Stiles being immature? That was a thing. A Stiles thing. He had the immaturity thing down pat.

There had been the devastating night, a Friday. Two days after Stiles had promised Derek he would come back home. Derek was drunk and alone. Stiles didn't know where Kate was, but Scott said when he opened Allison's door, careful not to let Derek in, that he was by himself. Stiles could hear him, shouting and ranting and demanding to talk to Stiles. A couple of Allison's classmate came over and told Derek to shut the hell up, but he refused to leave without seeing Stiles.

Stiles was so embarrassed. Ashamed that he'd let it get this far, that he reduced Derek to this, when Stiles should be the only one feeling the repercussions of his actions. But he wasn't over it, and the longer time drew on, he didn't think he'd ever be over it completely. He needed to develop something that didn't involve Derek so they could both go back to something normal.

Allison dialed Lydia and she brought Jackson, he and Scott dragged Derek away from the door and into the parking lot. Stiles watched them put him in the passenger seat of his car. And he _cried._ He cried so much, because it hurt. It hurt Stiles more than it would ever hurt Derek. It physically pained him to see Derek that broken up over something silly like Stiles staying with his sister for a couple days. But he was drunk. He was drunk and he would go back to the apartment and fuck Kate. Fuck it out of his system and he would be fine. He would use her and screw her brains out like she was something that didn't matter, a warm body. And Stiles' only saving grace was that it was better her than him.

He and his sister shared a bed, much like they did when they were kids, before Stiles turned five and met Derek. Before they had other people to lean on, back when all their little selves had were each other. Allison didn't ask him to talk. Stiles thanked her for that. She just shook her head and played with his hair, complaining that it was getting too long and he was starting to look older than her. He laughed into the pillow and poked her in her dimple that matched his.

He told her that he didn't know what he would do without her and she said he'd probably had died of boredom when he was younger, because his whole early childhood revolved around making her life miserable for no other reason than the fact he had nothing better to do. He promised to start spending more time with her, stop taking her for granted, only leaning on her when he needed something. He told her he would be around more, so she better make some time on her schedule. She was keen to the idea, giggling that Scott would be mad because Stiles was prone to being their own personal cock blocker.

On the third day, the last day, Stiles was supposed to meet with Ian. Ian had seen Paul with someone new and he was taking it pretty hard. Stiles felt his pain and told him he would meet him at The Corner Coffee Shop. Derek had quit his shifts there, so he wouldn't risk any chance of seeing him out. Ian shared his story and Stiles shared his. They both laughed at the how pathetic both of their situations were.

Stiles asked Ian if he had anyone else to talk to, or if Stiles was the only confidant he had. Ian told him about his good friend Nina, they had dated before Ian discovered he was gay.

They shared stories and generally got to know one another better, and if the both of them didn't have other people on their minds, Stiles might have thought it was a date. He mentioned it to Ian and was met with a crooked grin, a smirk a bit more mischievous than Derek's. Fuck, Stiles, _stop it._ He assured Stiles that if, not when, but if he were to take him on a date, that it wouldn't be at a local college coffee shop, it would be somewhere nice.

The mood changed after that. It was lighter. There were more casual touches. A hand placed on a wrist. Thighs knocking together underneath the table. A finger tracing lines on a palm. Stiles felt better than he had since he drove off from his apartment three days previous. He liked Ian, he did. And the way Ian was smiling at him, winking at him playfully, Stiles know that those feelings were returned.

He could see himself with Ian. It would take a long time and he would have to fix things with Derek. But they could get there. Stiles voiced his thoughts and Ian agreed. Stiles said they should just be friends for a while, let things settle down, not jump into anything. They'd agreed to be friends before, but now it was with a promise of more to come. Stiles was satisfied. It took a little of the pain off his chest. Knowing he had something to look forward to after this hell storm was over helped him breathe easier.

Ian escorted Stiles out the door, kissing him on the side of the mouth before walking away to his car.

Stiles got in his Jeep and turned it on. It was time to go home.

 

/////

 

  
When Stiles walked through the door, everything was quiet. Lydia and Jackson were still there. Stiles crept in his bedroom to find them sleeping, _ew,_ naked. On his sheets. Leave it to Lydia to subconsciously take the pressure off of Stiles by making him want to throw up. They were paying for whatever stains they got on that. Stiles had learned in high school that Lydia and Jackson's sex life was more in-depth than he ever wanted to know. Topeka pudding and pineapples were involved. It was bizarre.

Stiles tip-toed unsuccessfully to Derek's room, tripping over every pair of shoes that Derek owned in the hallway, since Stiles wasn't there to hound him to pick them up. Stiles tried not to let that thought settle in his stomach, he was already sick enough from well, everything.

He opened the door, expecting to take a hit to the heart and see Kate sprawled on top of Derek, but the sight before him was even more heartbreaking. Derek was curled up on the bed. His room was a mess. There was glass everywhere and what Stiles thought was one of Derek's camera lenses lying cracked on the floor. Their were no sheets or blankets on the bed, just a mattress with a pillow crumpled up under Derek's head.

There were spilled beverages that looked like they'd been there for a while, and Stiles would have a hell of a time getting that out of his Persian rug. _Way to be gay, Stiles._ A fist sized hole was in the wall, and there were beer cans everywhere. _What the hell had happened?_

Stiles sat on the bed, careful not to disrupt Derek's sleep. Stiles took this chance to really look him over. He had bags under his eyes, matching the ones Stiles had seen in the mirror that morning. His lip was busted, and Stiles had no clue what that was about. He had bruises on his knuckles that Stiles knew would be a perfect match to the indents in the walls. Stiles had kissed those hands three days ago, unscarred and unblemished. How had everything gone so wrong?

Because of him. Because he was so stupid and selfish. How could he think that his absense wouldn't effect Derek? Maybe Derek didn't share Stiles' feelings, but they've never had a fight like this. _Never._ Except the Fourth of July last year, but Stiles hadn't went and knocked holes in the wall. He'd been pissed and he hadn't known if Derek was coming back. But Stiles had promised. And he lied. He was a fucking terrible friend.

"Oh, _Derek,_ " he said. "I'm so sorry."

Derek's eyes shot open and Stiles tried to pretend that it didn't hurt when Derek's entire face relaxed and a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. A weight that Stiles had put there.

"Stiles?" Derek asked. "Are you home? Are you staying?"

Stiles hated how eager Derek sounded, how happy he sounded that his dipshit best friend had finally graced him with his presense. Like Stiles was something special.

He nodded. "Yeah, buddy. I am."

Derek sat up and took Stiles in his arms, his damaged lips finding that spot in Stiles' hair that made him shiver. He let go of Stiles like he was on fire.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—. I Just missed you." He was fumbling over his words, and that was usually Stiles' ballpark. Fuck Stiles for reducing Derek to this unsure, uncertain person in front of him. "I won't do it again."

"No, no. _No,_ " Stiles uttered. "I don't care. No boundaries, okay? That's how we're always been. I don't want it to stop." Stiles took a shaky breath, his emotions catching up to him. "I don't ever want to fight with you again, Der. I don't."

Derek looked hesitant. "What about Ian?"

"He doesn't care. He won't care."

Derek's jaw set. "So you're still with him? You two are a couple now?"

Stiles brought his hands up to Derek's face, his thumbs brushing gently over his torn lip. "Don't be mad, okay? I need someone, just like you do. But no one's going to come between us, Derek. You're my best friend." He gulped, knowing Derek would never, _ever_ know the truth of the words about to come out of his mouth. "I love you."

Derek batted Stiles' hands away and hugged him, squeezing the air out of Stiles' lungs. "I love you, Stiles. Don't leave again, please. I didn't mean it, any of it."

Stiles couldn't see Derek's face from where he was mashed against his neck, inhaling Derek's scent, hoping to find the smell of Derek's cologne and the natural Derek scent that made Stiles feel like home, but he caught a whiff of something else.

"Dude," Stiles said, "when was the last time you took a bath?"

Derek smothered his amusement in Stiles's shoulder. "Stiles, we're having a moment here."

Stiles scoffed. "No, there will be no moments here until you take a shower. You're rank. I have to sleep in here until the Sunday after next. I'm not sleeping next to you, smelling like this." He pushed Derek back playfully, needing to put some distance between them. "You're going to get a rash, get out." He attempted to roll a laughing Derek out of the bed, forgetting that there was broken glass on the floor.

"And what did you do to my apartment," he howled, not meaning to raise his voice. "What have I told you about picking up your messes? _Hm?_ I know I trained you better than that."

Derek overpowered Stiles, _shocking, really,_ and turned him over on his back, towering above him and rubbing his stink all over Stiles. "You trained me, huh? I don't remember any training, _master._ Are you telling me my shoes don't get to stay wherever I took them off at?" He took the bottom of his dirty shirt and wiped it on Stiles' face, shoving it in Stiles' mouth. "Is that what you're telling me?"

"Derek!" Stiles shouted, trying to get words out in between laughing and mouthfuls of cotton. "Derek, you're so gross!"

Derek edged his fingers up Stiles torso, and Stiles knew what was coming. "Derek, don't you dare tickle me," he squeaked. It was a manly squeak, _thank you very much._

Derek lifted on corner of his mouth, a smile that Stiles knew meant trouble. "You want a visit from the tickle monster? Is that what you said?"

In a flash, Stiles was rolling around, trying to get away from Derek's hands and his _smell._ Because the dude really did need to take a shower.

Stiles was shrieking out pleas for Derek to stop and Derek was bellowing threats from The Tickle Monster and it felt so much like old times that Stiles completely forgot that he was supposed to be in love with this guy. This guy that prodded Stiles' ribs like he did when they were six years old. The guy that broke every breakable thing in the house when Stiles left him to his own devices. The guy that had just, _ugh, farted_ on Stiles like he did when they were teenagers.

For a moment he forgot that he was supposed to feel all these strange girly feelings for Derek and they just _were._ It was fine. Stiles didn't have an uncomfortable bone in his body. Derek had stopped tickling him, content just to rest beside him, exhausted because the dude probably hadn't done much of anything the last few days.

Derek dropped an extra slobbery kiss on his cheek laughing as Stiles wiped off the excess spit, completely grossed out.

Stiles knew if he could forget for a moment, that he could eventually forget permanently. Apparently he'd been over the moon for Derek all his life, but he only had a problem with it when it was his main focus. So he would find other things to think about. If there was one thing Stiles was good at, it was distraction.

Derek drug Stiles over, onto his chest, not caring that Stiles was an actual human being and not a rag doll and that he could like, _puncture_ Derek's lungs because he'd put on so much Christmas weight _it wasn't even funny._ Derek didn't seem to mind. Stiles rested his head on Derek's ridiculously soft man boob muscles. He wouldn't call them pecs because that word seemed to make Derek's head inflate. Derek rubbed Stiles' back, running his hand up and down in a soothing motion that would put Stiles to sleep sooner rather than later.

"Derek?"

Derek hummed. " _Hm?_ "

Stiles was sleepy, but he wanted Derek to know before he fell asleep. "If you don't get that red wine out of my carpet, I'll kill you."

" _Gaaaaaaaaaay._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what'cha think! :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of heartbreaking angst, there's one on the horizon, but it has nothing to do with Sterek. I'm done ripping your hearts out, promise. It's a rebuild from now, so your hearts can take a rest. Thank you guys so much for the awesome response to this, you're all amazing! There's a not at the end of this you might be interested in reading, it's about the update schedule. Anyhow, on to our fave characters.
> 
> Leave me a comment, I love to hear what you think. Mwah!

The rest of January flew by in a haze. No, really, Stiles could barely remember anything that happened after he and Derek had made up. Lydia and Jackson had not been to happy to help Stiles clean up Derek's mess. Stiles could have made Derek pick it up, but he didn't want Derek to have to go through all the emotional baggage and bullshit that he'd gone through when he was trucking through the house in the first place.

Lydia and Jackson left two days earlier than they'd planned, Lydia more than a little miffed that Allison and Stiles wouldn't clue her in to what was going on. They parted on good terms, she only looked at him disapprovingly twice before boarding, so that was good. 

He went on a date with Ian three weeks later, after they'd gotten settled back into school. It was fun, Stiles had a good time. He didn't think about Derek once. Okay, maybe once when the waiter appeared and had a mountain man-esque scruff. Also when Ian kissed his jaw in the same place Derek had that afternoon.

The touching hadn't ceased by any means, if anything it had increased. Derek was all over Stiles. He kissed Stiles when Stiles got out of the shower, not caring to respect his privacy. He forced Stiles into his lap at every chance he got, regardless of Kate being in the same room or not. He massaged Stiles' shoulders when he'd had a hard day at school, making Stiles pop a boner on the couch where they shared popcorn and watched _Spongebob_. It was killing Stiles and making his day all in the same amount of time.

If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn Derek was afraid to let him out of his sight. It still hurt, the wounds were fresh, but Stiles tried to keep his feelings shoved down deep where no one could see them.

It was all smooth sailing until Derek presented Stiles with the question that made Stiles question whether or not living on Earth was his best choice. He could live on Mars. He would be _fine._ So what if their was no oxygen, or aliens. Stiles saw the Spice Girls movie, aliens don't look that bad. _He could do it._

"Let's double date." Derek had said, clear out of the blue in the middle of their Avengers re-watch. Stiles thought he was Jossing him, but Derek looked serious. He was seriously considering double-dating. With Stiles. And Ian. And _Kate._ What the hell?

Stiles raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him, because Derek wasn't the only one with super cool and emotional eyebrows.

"Why in the world would you want to do that?"

Derek shrugged, passing Stiles the nachos they'd been sharing. "I don't know," he threw a chip into his mouth, "if Ian's going to be a part of your life, I want to know him better. I was an asshole on New Year's, I want to make it up to him, and you."

Stiles tentatively took a cheese-drenched tortilla chip from the plate. "It's okay, I forgive you. Ian forgives you. You are forgiven. No need to double-date. Cool."

Derek shoved Stiles' shoulder. "You know what I mean," he said. "If he's going to be in your life, I want to know what the guy's all about."

"You sound like my dad, Derek. He's cool, don't worry about it."

Derek scooted closer and tucked Stiles underneath his arm, not noticing Stiles internally screaming. Maybe he should scream on the outside. No, probably not. He had a girly scream. He hadn't quite figured out how to scream like a man. How does one even scream manly? How—

"You're like my little brother, I just want to make sure he's right for you."

His little brother? _His little brother?_ Stiles didn't need a sibling, he had one. A twin, even. He didn't want to be Derek's kid brother. If that wasn't Stiles' wake-up call, he didn't know how else Derek could make it obvious that he didn't want him as anything other than family. _Yay._

"We're not getting married, Derek. We just started dating," _fake dating,_ but dating nonetheless. "I don't want you to scare him off just yet." Stiles gave Derek a playful jab in the ribs.

"Please, Stiles?" Derek cupped his chin to look him in the eyes. And wasn't that just wonderful. "For me?"

And he _had_ to use the puppy eyes. That was supposed to be Scott's thing. It was bad enough that Derek was hot enough to set someone on fire. Seriously, this was a hazard. And he was smart. And artistic. And did Stiles say fucking gorgeous? That should be thrown in. It wasn't fair for him to be all of those things and have an adorable yet heartbreaking set of eyes that Stiles would always, without a doubt, cave to.

He let out a dramatic sigh, signalling Derek to his displeasure at the situation. "Fine." He leaned back into Derek's forearm, if Stiles and his feelings were going to have to endure a night of merciless torture that is Derek Hale in the same vicinity of Kate Argent, then he was going to take all the small pleasures he could find. Call him an opportunist. "What date did you have in mind?"

"Valentine's Day," Derek replied. "Kate wants to do something special, but we haven't been together long enough for me to pull out all the stops." He didn't sound too happy at the prospect of taking Kate out for Valentine's Day. Maybe it was too intimate for him, perhaps that's what made him uncomfortable with Kate on such a romantic holiday.

Stiles pressed a teasing kiss into Derek's bicep. Or Derek _thought_ it was teasing, Stiles was just going along to his own devices. A man could dream, right? No? "Hm, and what are all the stops, Der-Der?"

Derek chuckled and ran his fingers up Stiles' arm and shoulder, stopping on the back of his neck. "I keeping telling you, baby," Derek drawled. "Drop the dead weight, and you'll find out." He nuzzled Stiles' face with his own. "You know I'd treat my girl right."

Stiles flushed, because damn straight, or not _straight,_ but whatever. Damn straight he'd like to kick Ian and Kate to the curb and go out with Derek on Valentine's Day. Or stay inside. In the bedroom. No clothing allowed. Anything involving Derek sans clothing, honestly.

Stiles put on a blank face, knowing he was failing to cover up his already red cheeks. "You're so charming," he deadpanned, "do you tell all the girls this?"

"Only you, baby girl."

 

/////

 

  
"That is the dumbest thing you could have ever agreed to."

Enter Lydia, the most supportive and also the kindest friend Stiles has. He was cooking supper in the kitchen for Ian and himself. Derek was at a mixer with some of his friends from photography class, and he told Stiles not to wait up. So he didn't.

"Yes, Lydia. I'm aware that I'm an idiot for agreeing to it. I didn't call you for confirmation. I need your help out of it."

"Just tell him you don't want to go. I don't see how he could possibly blame you. If he wants to spend time with that horrid woman, that's up to him." Stiles rolled his eyes as he stirred his rice. "He shouldn't inflict her on other people."

He heard a knock on the door and rushed to answer it, his natural born clumsiness succeeding him when he tripped on a pair of Derek's running shoes.

"Shit," he yelped, holding his knee when he got up. "I know, Lyds. I know. There are a million other things I'd rather do than go to dinner with Kate." He opened the door and gave Ian a peck on the side of the mouth. "Having my throat ripped out by wolves. Jumping in front of a train. _Watching the eighth season of Charmed._ "

Lydia hummed her agreement. "So unnecessary, should have stopped at season seven."

"I know, right?" He directed Ian to the living room, giggling when he grabbed at his ass. "Behave, Ian."

Ian winked at him and grabbed the remote. "Now where's the fun in that?"

"Ooooh, Ian's there? Did you tell him yet?"

Stiles returned to the kitchen. "Yes, I told him last night. He doesn't care."

Lydia seemed to let that process before she spoke again. "Are you sure this is just about you not wanting to be around Kate? There isn't anything you're not telling me?"

Stiles could feel her judgmental gaze through the telephone. He knew she would catch on to him sooner or later. Stupid gingers and their special mind reading powers.

Stiles let out an exasperated noise, making motions for Ian to help him out when he turned back to look at Stiles. He mouthed the words _'she's catching on about Derek'_ and Ian stood up to come into the kitchen, swiping Stiles' phone from his fingers.

"Lydia," he asked. "This is Ian. Yes, I remember you. That performance on the coffee table will be hard to forget, pretty girl." He threw his head back at something Lydia said and Stiles found himself wanting to be let in on the conversation. Ian kissed at his pouting lip, nipping it before smiling into the reciever. "Now as much as I'd like to carry on with this conversation — _No, I really would._ But If I've got to share Stiles this weekend, I plan to do some very dirty things to him tonight, Miss Lydia."

Stiles stirred the rice and choked on a laugh. He could almost see the blush on Lydia's face. He couldn't blame her, Ian was _very_ charming.

"Alight," Ian said. "You too. Have a good night." He coughed to cover up his discomfort. "I will. Goodbye."

He ended the call and sat the phone on the island, coming around to stand over Stiles' shoulder and see what Stiles was making.

"Why do all your friends think I'm screwing you seven ways to Sunday," he snickered into Stiles' shoulder.

"Better question is why aren't you?"

Ian swatted at Stiles hands, taking over the food and the position felt affectionate, but not uncomfortable. Stiles has been in this very same placement with Derek. It makes Stiles swoon internally at the domesticity.

And as if Ian was reading Stiles' mind, he said, "I think we both know the answer to that question, love."

Stiles felt like a douche bag. He kept dropping hints at Ian to pursue this into something more than it already was and he still had Derek on the brain. Stiles was sure Ian was in the same predicament with Paul.

"Have you talked to Paul lately," he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer, slapping himself for being so selfish. He couldn't have Ian _and_ Derek. It would never work that way. He wasn't Bella to Ian and Derek's fucked up, less jealous version of Jacob and Edward and _my fucking goodness,_ had he just made that reference? He's got to stop reading those books. Stephanie Meyer is an evil, evil person.

Ian shook his head, his chin rubbing against Stiles collarbone. "Nina called me and told me he was talking some new guy out on Valentine's Day." Ian coughed, clearing the emotions in his throat. "Valentine's Day was always our favorite holiday. I used to wake him up with chocolate covered strawberries. They were his favorite. We would be lazy and watch all the horrible chick-flicks we could get our hands on." Ian reached forward, taking Stiles with him, turning off the burner and setting the pot on a cool burner. He backed up into the kitchen island and kept Stiles in his arms, his hands holding onto Stiles' middle.

"To know that he's sharing the day with someone else hurts a lot."

Stiles faced him and draped his forearms around his neck. "You never know, maybe they're like you and me? Just friends." Ian let his hands drift down to Stiles' ass. He yelped. A very _manly_ yelp, he did. "Okay, a little more than friends. But I bet you're a hard guy to get over, just like he was— _is._ Maybe he needs a friend to help him out, take his mind off things. Maybe he needs his own Stiles."

"One, love, there's no one is this world who's just like you are." Ian slipped his hands under Stiles' shirt and Stiles tried his damnedest not to arch back into the touch. "You understand. You let me talk about him. You care. I don't see how Derek can be stupid enough to let someone like you just slip," Ian ghosted his hands over Stiles' shoulder blades, "right out of his hands."

Stiles nosed at Ian's cheek. "You can't lose something you never wanted in the first place, Ian. He's Derek, I'm me. I get it, I'm not mad at him. I'm mad at myself."

Ian looked at Stiles', perplexed and slightly angry. "Do you not see yourself, Stiles? You're beautiful—"

" _On the inside,_ I know."

Ian let out a snort of derision. "No, not just on the inside, god. What have these people been telling you? When I look at you, I see so much. How can you not see it, too? How can you think everybody doesn't see it?"

Stiles was starting to fidget and shrink in on himself, not enjoying being under a magnifying glass.

Stiles withdrew his hands from Ian's shoulders, but Ian took his hands out from under Stiles' clothes and placed them in the same spot. "Don't shy away from me. I'm not trying to upset you, I'm trying to _show_ you."

He took Stiles' bottom lip in between his thumb and forefinger. "These lips, they drive me insane. They're big and pouty, and I just want to kiss them every time I see you. And then I remember that I'm in love with someone else, and so are you. It's torture."

Ian stared into Stiles' eyes and Stiles stood stock-still at the words pouring out of his mouth. "Your _eyes,_ " he whimpered. "I get lost in them, in reading them. Every emotion you feel in here," he tapped in Stiles' chest, "can be seen right here if you look hard enough."

"Your hands," he continued, picking up one of Stiles' arms, taking Stiles' hand in his, "they're always wandering and exploring. They're long and agile and so fucking veiny. I didn't know I had a vein kink until I met you."

"And your—"

"Okay," Stiles rushed, silencing Ian's lips with his. "Enough," he whispered, opening his mouth and finding his tongue, thanking him with every swipe across his teeth, leaning into it, catching Ian's lip with his his own, smacking against them. He bit at his lip a little harder than necessary, swallowing down the moan Ian let out at the pain, and the next one as Stiles slid his tongue over the marks and tugged on it again, softer this time.

Ian broke away, laughing when Stiles whined at loss of contact. It was validated, Ian had a nice set of lips himself. And that _tongue._ Good God, that tongue. _Well, maybe God is the wrong person to thank at the moment,_ he needs to be thanking Ian. He surges forward, ambling for another round of kisses, but Ian leans out of range.

"Love, if this goes any farther, I'm not stopping. And a bout of meaningless sex isn't what we need right now."

Stiles couldn't help but pout, knowing Ian was right, but not liking it one bit. Stiles' right hand was getting tired of carrying all the load around here. Get it, _load?_ Cause of— Okay, immaturity moment over.

"Don't stick that lip out at me, Stiles. I'm already trying hard enough to control myself as it is."

"Sorry," Stiles grumbled, walking away to get a pot holder, smelling the chicken he'd forgotten in the oven. Thankfully it wasn't burnt, so he shooed Ian out of the kitchen and prepared the both of them a plate.

He sat down, handing Ian a drink and carefully lying his plate down on the coffee table.

"So what are we watching," Stiles asked, snuggling into Ian's side, for appearances, _of course._ Anyone could show up at any time. And they wouldn't be a real couple if they sat at opposite ends of the couch, now would they? No.

"Spartacus. I'm in the mood for some Nagron."

"My God, are you trying to torture me," Stiles groaned. "No, _we_ can't have any sex, but let's watch two drop dead gorgeous, half-naked Spartan men unleash their relationship feels all over Stiles. You are officially the worst."

Ian laughed into Stiles' hair, then took a bite of his chicken.

"Well, I told Lydia that we were doing something dirty. It may not be us, but at least someone is getting hot and sweaty."

 

/////

 

  
Stiles was getting ready for the worst day of his life. Not counting middle school graduation when he tripped and fell into the audience, but it was a close second. Derek and Ian had exchanged numbers the other night when Derek got back from his artsy fartsy photography class get together, and they both decided where the couples were going. Neither one of them would tell Stiles where they would be eating, so when he got out of English Lit he rushed home to figure out what he was going to wear.

"A shirt and tie is overdoing it, Stiles. Just wear some slacks and a sweater."

Stiles jumped when Derek snuck up behind him, nearly choking himself with his tie.

"Geez, warn a guy, would you?!"

Derek kissed his ear, and if Stiles internally melted into a pile of goo, it would all be Derek's fault. "Sorry, babe. Just don't want you to feel overdressed."

And there was that word, again. Derek's use of pet names had gotten worse leading up to Valentine's Day. It was as if Derek didn't want Stiles to make it to dinner. At all. Because those cute adorable, kind of sexy name-callings were going to kill Stiles. Kill him dead. Roadkill. _Derek-kill._ Stiles was Derek-kill.

"When is Kate getting here," Stiles asked, not really caring for the answer, but trying to change the subject. Trying to remind Derek that he _had_ someone he could call babe and baby and hunny and whatever stupid names Derek had been subjecting Stiles to for the past fifteen years.

Derek walked over to Stiles' bed and plopped down on his back, giving Stiles a hard— _heart_ attack when he stuck his hand down his pants and scratched himself, exposing the top half of his junk. _My god._

"She said she's been feeling lightheaded lately. So she's coming with Ian since they both live on campus. He's supposed to pick her up and bring the blindfolds."

Stiles wiggled his brows as he slipped into his khaki's. "Ooooh, _kinky._ "

Derek rolled his eyes and sat up on his elbows. "You idiot, not for sex. They're so you won't see where we're taking you."

And because Stiles likes inflicting emotional pain onto himself, he said, "And I'm sure that's all you two will be using it for."

"You know me so well, brother bear."

"Something I regret everyday, Der-bear."

Derek kicked out at Stiles as he got closer to the bed, making Stiles' graceless knees give out and he landed in Derek's lap. To avoid missing Derek's junk with his limbs, he reflexively moved to straddle his hips. It wasn't a reflex to put Stiles and Derek in compromising positions. No, if Stiles had that reflex he would have taken advantage of it some time ago. When they were fifteen and horny all the time. It was a reflex to not hit Derek in the junk, which he had done more times than he could count over the years. It wasn't his fault, coordination was not his forte.

In lieu of his knee not being in contact with Derek's junk, his _junk_ was touching Derek's junk. His junk was touching _Derek's junk._ Stiles let that process. His junk was touching Derek Hale's junk.

This was a bad idea, him just sitting there, the both of them frozen. No one daring to move because then there would be rubbing. He would be _rubbing_ Derek's junk. With _his_ junk. Why was this a bad idea again?

Oh yeah, he had a permanent man-crush on Derek, fairly similar to the one he had on Robert Downey Jr, but worse. Because Stiles didn't live with Robert Downey Jr. If he did, _wow,_ he would not be responsible for his actions. But Derek was not Iron Man, though he was equally as hot, and Stiles could not press his dick into Derek's funny business because he would have to wake up everyday and deal with the consequences. And some dry humping was not worth a loss of fifteen years of friendship.

He adverted eye contact with Derek, who was staying just was still as Stiles was.

"I'm just gonna—" He gingerly laid his hands on Derek's chest, to give him enough leverage to move his hips without any rubbing. Or minimal rubbing, because Stiles was a bit of an opportunist.

"God, Stiles, just _come here,_ " he moaned. Stiles wasn't catching up to him until Derek knocked his hands off his chest and Stiles fell forward into Derek's hands, and his lips. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the only real kiss he would ever get from Derek would be an acciden—

Derek's lips were moving against Stiles', his mouth still closed. Derek was kissing Stiles. He was kissing him. On the mouth. _On purpose._ And Stiles had no clue what to do.

"Kiss me back, Stiles," Derek muttered across his closed lips. "Kiss me."

Weren't those the magic words Stiles had been waiting for all along? Isn't this what Stiles wanted? Derek wanting him? Derek wanting to kiss him and hold him and watch bad westerns with him? Isn't that what he's been holding out for?

"Okay," he said, moving away from Derek's lips, kissing the crease between his brows at the confusion. He peppered kises down Derek's jaw, using his hands to grab onto Derek's hair, it was free of product and _god_ did it feel good between his fingers.

Derek moaned again, extending his neck when he saw through lidded eyes that Stiles was heading in that direction. Stiles ghosted his lips over Derek's throat, occasionally dropping a kiss when Derek was least expecting it.

Stiles just wanted to kiss Derek. Open himself up and let Derek take what he wanted, whatever he was willinf to accept from Stiles.

Stiles was moving his hips against Derek, slow but needy, pulling sounds out of Derek as his balls rubbed against Derek's growing erection, making friction, pressing harder and harder and wanting more.

Stiles was going to do a guestimation from what he could feel and say Derek was the same size of Stiles, uh, _down there._ Maybe wider, thicker.  He pressed down again, circling his hips, taking another feel. Okay, a lot wider. But Stiles kept his mouth shut, he didn't say a word, he didn't want to give Derek a complex.

He didn't want to kiss Derek on the lips just yet, he was treading on unsteady ground, he wanted to make sure this was _real,_ that this could actually be happening to him. He would think about this for weeks, the moment his restraint disolved, the moment Derek let him in enough to kiss him and touch him with intent.

"Stiles, I _need_ you," Derek gasped his voice rising, almost yelling, squeaking out a plea for Stiles to take his invitation. His hands sought out Stiles' as he rutted upward, his hips jerking at their own accord, manufacturing a friction that Stiles would remember for the rest of his life. It was delicious, incredible, _unreal._

Stiles kissed his way back up Derek's neck, and his jaw, never sucking, just pressing his lips against Derek's heated skin, over and over, cherishing the moment, taking his time. Derek huffed and moan, never speaking just breathing. Hard and fast when Stiles nipped into his skin. Slow and shaky when Stiles slid and shifted over his cock.

When he finally got to Derek's lips, he hesitated, unsure, and Derek eyes fluttered open. Stiles took the time to examine, to really _look._ And he saw it. What he'd been hoping was there all along. Passion. Want. _Love._ It was hard to miss, because he was _looking_ at Stiles, steadying his eyes on Stiles like he was the most important thing in the world. He looked at him like if he closed his eyes or veered his gaze, Stiles would vanish, Stiles would be gone. Stiles knew that he would recognize the look in the mirror, staring back at him with the same gleam of emotion in his eyes.

Derek felt the same. Derek loved him. He was _in love_ with him.

Stiles leaned forward and just took, taking Derek's lip in his, being gentle, and when Derek got with the program, being led. Derek delved his mouth into Stiles', his silken tongue licking the inside of his mouth, finding whatever he was looking for in Stiles. Mewling when Stiles reached down to palm him, his hand flitting nervously over Derek's clothed dick.

Stiles rocked his hips into Derek, knocking his knuckles into his own erection, howling into Derek's mouth, the both of them breaking the kiss with a groan. Derek braced his hands on Stiles' back, flipping him over, giggling into Stiles' throat when Stiles almost toppled over the edge of the bed.

Derek smiled down at him, bearing over him, making Stiles feel small in comparison. Derek rested his weight on one elbow, slotting a leg between Stiles', his thigh rubbing and pressing on Stiles' leaking cock, making his balls tighten. He drew Stiles' chin in his hand, titling his mouth open and licking into it again, laughing at the loud smack of their lips in the silence of the room. A kiss and more kisses and a smile and Stiles' heart beating fast, matching his mind that was racing.

"I feel like we're in high school, right now," Stiles mumbled before chasing Derek's tongue back inside his mouth, trying to establish a rhythm from the bottom. Derek shifted impossibly closer, making Stiles arch at the sensation, lifting him off the bed and closer still to Derek.

Derek kissed kissed his mouth one, twice, three times before grinding down harder, more intense against Stiles eating up the shuddering groan Stiles let out in response. "If you can— _fuck,_ babe." Stiles had reached down to cup Derek's ass, pushing his hips into Stiles' rutting back with intent. "If you can form sentences — _Stiles_ — I'm doing it wrong."

Stiles shook his head, playfully smiling at Derek, feeling light and happy and free. "You're definitely doing it right."

"God, I _l—_ "

There was a pounding on the door. A single fist had put a halt to everything Stiles had wanted since he fell for Derek.

"Don't answer it," he pleaded. He felt his hold tighten on Derek, not willing to let go. He didn't want to let go. He would cling to Derek like a spider monkey if it meant staying right here in this spot. Stiles has never actually _seen_ a spider monkey hold on to something. But it was in Twilight. There had to be meaning there. Right?

"Derek," the obnoxious knocking continued, "open up, it's cold. And I have to use the ladies room. Derek, I know you're in there."

It was Kate. With Ian.

And just like that, their ignorant bubble of bliss was popped. Enter the _real world._ Not the horrible reality television show, but the actual real world. The cruel one. The one that made Derek pull off in a haste to answer the door, leaving Stiles on the bed by himself. He didn't glance back at him once.

Stiles heard Derek let their company in and saw Kate rush by his door on her way to the restroom, Derek right behind her. He knew there would be no talking to Derek when he heard his door slam shut. He knew he looked wrecked when Ian came in with a bouquet of flowers and sat beside him. He knew that all of this would blow up in his face, and he did it anyway. Go Stiles. You're on a roll this year.

"Do I want to know why Derek's hair looks like he just got fucked and you look like you're about to cry," Ian asked, letting Stiles think the question over before he spoke again. "You know what, keep your head up, love. Go straighten out your shirt and talk to him. I have an idea what we interrupted."

Stiles struggled to find words. "Ian he has a girlfriend." A girlfriend that he was willing to leave Stiles alone for, without a word. "He wants me, _I saw it._ But she's in the picture. You're in the picture" He cleared his throat, gathering his thoughts. "If he was willing to shove his tongue down my throat when he knew he was with somebody else, what's stopping him from doing that to me?"

"Stiles—"

"I don't want to be the guy who gets dumped on Valentine's Day any more than I want to be the guy that steals someone's boyfriend on Valentine's Day. I'm not that guy, I can't be that guy."

"Stiles, me and you? We could have been good for each other, I would have loved you right. But I love Paul. I do. He's all I'll ever want. And the only reason we keep dancing in circles like we do, is because I know that's how you feel about Derek."

"Ian, I'm so sorry."

"Hush, love. Go talk to him." Ian said, steading Stiles' shaking hands, helping him take deep breaths. "I'll distract Kate. Don't look at me like that, I'll find a way." He stood up and held his hand out for Stiles. "C'mon, _go._ "

Stiles shook his head, but stood up anyway. "Let me get something to drink first. My throat feels like it's about to catch on fire. Maybe I have nodes. Do you think I have—"

Ian pushed Stiles into the kitchen. "You don't have nodes, Stiles. You just talk entirely too much."

Stiles chose to use his selective hearing he gained as a child and ignore Ian, grabbing a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and gearing up to head in the direction of Derek's room. He placed his water bottle next to a plastic pharmacy bag on the counter, averting his eyes from Ian's judgy gaze. He could feel his sass all the way across the kitchen. Maybe if he changed the subject and got Ian to talk, he could avoid Derek long enough for Kate to come out of the bathroom.

He picked up the plastic bag, holding it out for Ian to see. "Is this yours, Ian," he questioned, trying to sound interested. "Are you sick? If you're sick we can cancel. I won't mind. Kate won't mind. I _know_ Derek won't mind."

"No—"

"What's in here? Mints? You don't need mints, dude. Your breath always smells great. How do you do that? What kind of toothpaste do you use?" Stiles knew he was rambling, so what? If he didn't let Ian get a word in edge wise it was because Ian wasn't seizing any opportunities to work his way in. Yeah, that sounded good in Stiles' head.

"Oh, a nail kit? I don't blame you, cuticle care is very important, even for men. I—"

He picked up the last item in the bag.

Stiles dropped the bag.

He couldn't believe it.

The bag wasn't Ian's. Unless Ian had something to tell Stiles. Or Stiles was stuck in an AU fanfic where males could gestate.

As far as Stiles knew, Ian wasn't producing any children.

Because the bag wasn't his.

It had to be Kate's, she was the only girl in the house.

And only girls needed pregnancy tests.  
  
Stiles was also pretty sure girls needed to be pregnant for them to be positive.

Like the one in the bag.

 

/////

 

 

"Stiles, what did you see? You look like you.. oh _shit._ " Ian paused at Stiles' side. "Is that what I think it is?"

"If you think it's a fucking pregnancy test, then yes, it's what you think it is."

Stiles sighed, feeling the weight of the decisions placed in front of him on his shoulders.

They'd only been together for a month and a half? Was that a allotted amount of time to create a baby? Was that enough time to procreate the hammer responsible for crushing the only hope Stiles had with Derek?

He had options, choices. He could pick up the used test and put it back in the bag, forget that Derek mentioned Kate feeling ill. He could march right in Derek's room, kiss him senseless and live happily ever after and make him kick Kate to the curb. Or he could leave the test where it fell, let Kate pick it up, smile at her and tell her congratulations, whether she and Derek are having a child or not, wish them well and carry on with his misery.

He could tell Derek this was an accident. They were both riled up and boys would be boys. They were two victims of circumstance. But he would be lying.

Stiles snapped out of his daze when the bathroom door opened. Ian made up Stiles' mind for him and picked up the test, shoving it back in the bag and dropping it back in it's place. She knocked on Derek's door and Derek came out, dressed and ready to go.

He was buttoning his shirt when he entered the kitchen with Kate. Stiles took one look at Derek with her and knew he would choose option number two.

Kate spread her hands across his chest and smoothed out his shirt, not noticing Derek hadn't taken his eyes off of Stiles once since he came into the room.

Derek wasn't into her. He didn't _like_ her. She touched him but he didn't touch her back. She lingered and he strayed. He kept her close, but not by choice. Derek would never hold Kate like he held Stiles. He would never look at her with those same feelings in his eyes and _fuck,_ how did he miss this? Did it really take a slap in the face to open up his eyes?

Kate had a positive pregnancy test and a boyfriend who didn't want her.

A baby and no boyfriend.

Stiles hated Kate. He hated her for taking Derek away from him just when he thought he had him for good. He hated her for being pretty and perfect and everything Stiles would never be, despite Ian's pep talk the other day. He hated her for having something that would tie Derek down, because Derek took care of his responsibilities and there was no way he was going to make Kate take care of a baby by herself. He _hated_ her, he really did.

But he didn't hate her enough to leave her in such a terrible situation. He didn't hate her enough to take Derek back from her when she could be pregnant. Maybe if she wasn't. Maybe if someone could shed a little light on this situation.

But this was the way the cards were dealt. And Stiles would suck it up.

Derek would thank him when he had a miniature Derek running around after him, calling him _daddy_ and fulfilling his dreams of having a family. Another thing that Stiles couldn't give him. Would never be able to give him.

Derek would eventually be happy.

He looked at Stiles expectantly, but Stiles shook his head no. A curt turn of the head. A simple ending to something that was so beyond complicated. Derek looked like he didn't understand.

So Stiles grabbed Ian by the back on the neck and sought out his mouth with his own. It didn't last long. There was no tongue. Just a meeting of tightly drawn lips and it was over. But when he looked up, Derek was kissing Kate, tipping her back, making her giggle into his mouth.

It hurt, but it was necessary. It had to happen.

Stiles grabbed his over coat off the back of the couch and headed to the door.

"Let's go."

 

/////

 

The car ride to dinner was unfortunate. Unfortunate for Stiles more than anyone else. Kate came up with a grand idea that they could take Ian's SUV to dinner and take a stroll in the park afterwards. Awesome. Great. _Fantastic._

She was the only one who couldn't feel the tension in the air, not that Stiles was entirely surprised. She wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. _It's not mean if it's true._ Derek all but peed on Kate to prove his point. He was fine. The kiss, _er,_ kisses meant were in the past. Got it. You can stop visually assaulting everyone with over sensual acts of PDA.

Scott had texted Stiles when they arrived at the diner, Stiles having taken his blindfold off some time ago. His eyes almost rolled themselves at Kate's excitement. _Oh, I've always wanted to go here, Derek. This is so nice. I could just keep you forever._

Stiles blanched at that, but he turned his attention back to his phone as they waited in line for the valet.

_can allison and i come to your place while you're having dinner?_

**_Why?_ **

Ian pulled up and Stiles got out of the car, waiting by the door.

_i made dinner at her dorm Burned it stove smoked up everything_

**_Idc, just no more sex in my bedroom._ **

_couch is big enough_

**_I really hate you._ **

_thanks bro i owe you_

**_I'm puking right now._ **

_love you too_

"Ready to go in?" Ian appeared at his arm, leading him into the restaurant behind Derek and Kate.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

Stiles studied Ian's expression, noticing a sadness that he hadn't been privy to before. "Hey," he nudged Ian's hip with his own. "You okay? Is it Paul? Need to talk?"

Ian let a shudder run down his shoulders, letting Stiles know that he hit the nail on the head.

"After dinner, okay? You and me. We'll go back to my place and be crybabies together." Ian smiled, but it didn't light up his face, it didn't do him justice. The emotion wasn't there. "Promise."

Ian pulled out Stiles' chair and Stiles sat down, not even putting up a fight, because he was not the girl. A girl. Stiles had no girl parts.

"I ordered a bottle of champagne for all of us," Derek said, pasting a fake smile on his face, pulling his lips into a thin grin when he looked at Stiles.

Kate caught Derek's elbow. "I'm not in the mood to drink tonight, Der. Maybe some other time, huh baby?"

 _Der?_ Kate was calling him Der now? Allison couldn't call him Der. Lydia couldn't call him Der. Laura couldn't call him Der. But Kate? Kate was allowed to use Stiles' nickname for Derek. Okay, cool.

Stiles had to bite his tongue from asking Kate why she couldn't have anything to drink. He didn't want to instigate. He didn't want to push his nose in other people's business, it wasn't his place to tell Derek that Kate had taken a pregnancy test. And it came out positive.

 _She can't drink, Derek, because you drilled you little soldiers into her, probably without a condom._ Obviously _without a condom. And now she's knocked up in restaurant with people who don't like her and a boyfriend who's too busy staring daggers into the skull of the man he just kissed and almost confessed his love to._ So she'll pass on the bubbly.

Stiles on the other hand? He wasn't carrying around someone else's spawn, so he was having a drink. Or two. Or _twenty._ He'd pay for all his drinks, he had extra cash left over from tutoring. Being a nerd was about to pay off. Stiles was not finishing this night out sober, not if he could help it.

"Ian, you're twenty-one, right," Stiles whispered, low enough to not be heard over Kate's long winded speech about the importance of a couple's first Valentine's Day.

"If you're asking me if I'll flash my I.D so you can get drunk, the answer is yes. I have to drive anyway."

"You are the best, seriously, free blow job for this. Say the word and it's all yours."

Ian got closer, speaking low in Stiles' ear. "I'd rather someone stick something in _her_ mouth. How many dicks does it take to get to the mute button?"

 

/////

 

 

"So Ian, what are you going to school for?" Derek was shooting back fingers of whiskey left and right. If he wasn't sending subliminal hate messages to Stiles, they were going in Ian's direction.

But Ian was handling it smoothly, he didn't bat an eye. So far Derek had asked him where he was from, where did he grow up (apparently those were two separate questions), if he had a job, why he didn't live off campus, if he got regular doctor visits _(I want to know if he's responsible)_ , and now what he was going to school for. And Ian asked every single one of those questions in return. _(I didn't ask if I went to the doctor, this is about you.)_

"Architecture. How about yourself?"

"Photography."

"That's nice, I've always loved photographs. You should show me your portfolio sometime."

"Likewise."

"I'll take you up on that."

"Looking forward to it."

"As am I."

"Good—"

Stiles let out a groan and dropped his head on the table, not perturbed by the clattering of the silverware against the wood. "Could you put your dicks away? We don't need a sword measuring contest for Christ's sake."

Kate clicked her tongue at him, taking a portion out of her _look at Derek with all the love in my heart_ time to scold Stiles. "Don't take Christ's name in vein, Stiles."

"Yes, because you praising God every time you and Derek pound into my wall is acceptable. Don't tell me what to do."

"Stiles."

"Maybe you've had enough to drink."

"Ian don't touch my glass, I swear bad things will happen."

Kate took some time to compose herself. "My sex life is none of your business."

"It's my business when I can't sleep at night. It's my apartment, Kate. I'm going to say something."

"It's Derek's house too."

"But it's not yours and it's not a house. It's an apartment. You can't have loud crazy sex all the time because we have neighbors literally two feet away. You can't run around fifty shades of _naked_ because horny teenagers live across the street." Her mouth slipped open like she was about to rebut Stiles' comment, but he put up a hand to quiet her. "Don't start with me, Kate."

Kate fixed her face in with a sour look and Stiles knew something particularly nasty was coming. He was waiting on it, _hell,_ he was expecting it.

She pursed her lips. "Just because we don't use our part of the house to cry and whine, doesn't make our activities any less important than yours."

"Kate," Derek reprimanded her, giving her a warning to back off.

If Derek wanted to attack Stiles' date, Stiles could show the same courtesy.

Stiles shook his head and shot back another glass. "Okay, no. One, it's not _your_ place. You don't belong here. Derek's known you for all of six weeks. If we were in high school, which is where your mind set creates the impression you're still stuck in, that'd be one grading period. _One._ You don't live there, you don't pay bills. Nothing is yours." He pointed to Derek and himself. "That is our apartment. Nothing belongs to you. And how _dare_ you come and try to take anything from me. _Everything._ " Stiles was cognizant that he was projecting, he knew he was blaming Kate for things that weren't her fault in entirety. He didn't care. Fuck it. "If you think you can talk to me any way you want, you're wrong. If you think you can take what's mine, you're wrong."

Stiles could feel his eyes sting, but he would not allow himself to show Kate his weak side for a second time. He'd be damned. Not if he was sacrificing his chance with Derek for her petulant personality and unborn child.

"And if you think you're raising your hell-spawn in the place I call home, _you're wrong._ "

Kate wheezed, her eyes flickering to Derek to register his face, the color draining out of her own. "Two, fuck you." Stiles finished off his drink and stood up, making an exit that wouldn't be thought of as graceful, but it didn't suck as bad as he imagined it would.

 

/////

 

 

"Stiles!"

_Don't turn round, don't turn around, don't turn around._

"Goddammit, Stiles! Wait!"

Don't turn around, don't turn around, don't turn around.

"Stiles," Derek panted, running to catch up to Stiles' fast pace, "please."

Stiles whirled around. He was in the parking lot across the street from the restaurant. He had no idea where he was walking to, but he needed fresh air. He needed something other than pain to fill his lungs. He needed to go home. Not his and Derek's place, but home. As juvenile as it sounded, he just wanted his mom.

"What do you want, Derek?"

He didn't sound small like Derek had, he sounded angry. His voice bellowed, echoed across the lot. He _was_ angry. He was _pissed._ He didn't want Derek running after him, he didn't want anyone running after him.

"What the hell was that about?"

"What was what about, Derek? What I say to Kate is between me and Kate. Leave it alone."

"You can't reject me and then get mad at me for having a girlfriend, you didn't choose me Stiles! Grow the fuck up!"

Stiles stumbled over his words. "I— _I_ need to grow up? I was sitting at the table when you had a pissing match with my boyfriend, in front of _your_ girlfriend! If anyone needs to grow up here, Derek, it's you."

Derek stepped closer and pointed a finger at Stiles, poking him in the chest. "You did this. You kissed Ian after you kissed me—"

Stiles threw his hands in the air, batting Derek's hand out of his face. "You kissed _me,_ Derek!"

"You kissed back."

"I was trying to leave!"

"You're always leaving, Stiles!" His voice carried, startling Stiles. He was screaming. "When things get hard, you leave! You get mad at me for fucking things up, but I'm human, Stiles. You can't leave when I make a mistake!"

You know what, no. He was done playing games with Derek, he didn't want to be a stepping stone in his plans to make Stiles trip over his own guilt.

"I told you I was _sorry,_ Derek. I apologized so many times. But you told me to leave. I left because _you_ said you wanted me gone."

"I was angry, Stiles. You said things you didn't mean and so did I. I'm tired of taking the blame for both of our mistakes."

Maybe Stiles was running. There was a chance that he was a coward, turning away at the chance that things might get messy. But this was Derek. _DerekandStiles._ They didn't do messy, or they hadn't until Stiles started loving him more than he should. More than he ever knew was possible.

He didn't want to walk away, he wanted to stay, be in Derek's arms, safe and sound. Secure. But things didn't always work out the way they were planned. Stiles left before someone else could do the leaving.

"I'm done, Derek." Derek looked shocked and confused and _hurt._ But hey, put it on Stiles' tab, because he was hurting a lot of people lately. "I don't care who kissed who. We kissed," he cleared his throat. "We kissed and it was great. I wouldn't take it back for the world—"

" _Then why would you kiss him?_ " He yelled. His tone was rock hard, cold and unyielding, wanting answers and persistant not to leave without them. "Why would you do that to me?"

"Are you really that stupid? Did you miss any of what I said in there? Derek, we won't ever be anything. You got a girl _pregnant_ and you didn't even notice."

"No, she's a liar."

"No, Derek, she isn't. I saw her pregnancy test! It was positive. You're having a kid by a girl you barely know because you couldn't keep it in your pants for five fucking seconds!"

"You don't know her like I do." Derek broached forward again, but Stiles backed away, halting his footsteps. "Stiles, I don't care—"

"You don't care if she's pregnant? Is that what you're going to say? You don't _care?_ That's the problem," Stiles shouted, "you don't care! You don't care about her and if I was in her position, you wouldn't care about me."

Derek lifted his mouth up in a grin, amusing himself and pissing Stiles off. "I don't think you can get pregnant, babe."

Stiles stared at him in shock. "Is this a joke to you?" he asked. "You find out you knocked some girl up and you're making jokes? Is that what I am to you? Is that what she is to you?" Stiles hands were shaking. "And don't call me that. Don't ever call me that. Not anymore."

Derek stilled his hands, tightening his grip when Stiles tried to pull away. "You think you don't matter to me? You're all that matters to me, Stiles. Why do you think I sleep with girls and guys and whoever else I can find? I'm trying to get my mind off of you." He lifted Stiles' hands to his mouth, resting his mouth against Stiles' knuckles like Stiles had done to him all those nights ago.

"You didn't want me until you knew that someone else had me," Stiles whispered. It was a low blow, demeaning Derek's feelings, belittling him. But it would be a clean break. That was what they both needed, a clean break.

Derek dropped his hands, stepping back and gesturing towards the restaurant they'd just came from. "If you want Ian, go fucking get him," he raised his hands in an innocent manner. "I'm not stopping you. I'm sick of trying to make you see what's in front of you."

Well, that was a bunch of bullshit.

"You're sick of it? You've done one thing, Derek. One thing in fifteen years. I spent the last month crying over you to Erica and Ian and you kissed me _an hour ago_ and you're done? Screw you."

Derek mumbled something that Stiles couldn't hear.

"If you've got something to say, Derek, be a man and say it," he said.

Derek yelled. "The fourth of July, Stiles!"

"What the fuck about it? You were the one that blew me off for Erica. That one is all on you."

Derek kicked at a group of rocks, sending them flying. "I was there! I was going to tell you. I was going to tell you everything, and you went out with some guy and looked right at me, Stiles! You looked at me and kept dancing."

"I don't even know—"

Stiles waited for his brain to catch up. He waited. And waited. And waited. And it clicked. _I didn't know you had a boyfriend._ The guy Stiles had been dancing with had seen Derek. Looking at Stiles. Right at him. And Stiles didn't even notice.

Stiles walked to Derek, picking his head up with his hand, cupping his face. "Derek, you have to believe me, I didn't know. I was so drunk that night." Derek jerked his face out of Stiles' hands. Stiles deserved that. "Scott was coming to see Allison and I just wanted you to come see me. I missed you. Derek," he pleaded, " _I'm sorry._ "

"Then be with me. If you're sorry, be with me."

Stiles was at a loss. He couldn't be with Derek and keep a clean conscience. Derek had to own up to his responsibilities. Stiles wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing he was the reason that Derek's future kid wasn't happy. Stacia would kill Stiles if he got in the way of her grand-kids.

"Der, I—"

"No," Derek choked out. "Don't call me Der. Don't do that if you're just going to tell me no."

All this time that had been wasted. So much time that they'd been circling around one another, just within reach of each other. It killed Stiles, if it didn't now, it would. He would look back at his life choices and he would always regret this. But he couldn't be with Derek like this, he didn't want it like this. He wanted Derek unattached. He wanted to know that if he had Derek, he wouldn't have to share.

He held back a sob, feeling tears that he hadn't know were there until too late. "Derek, n—"

Derek hastily pulled Stiles to him, holding him around the middle, leaking tears into Stile's dress shirt, breaking his heart.

"Don't say it, baby," he cried. "Please, don't say it. Don't say it." His voice got more quiet as he repeated the mantra over and over again. _Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it._

"I can't, Derek."

Derek pulled back, his hands on Stiles' shoulders, forcing him to look him in the eye. "Tell me you don't love me."

"What?"

"Tell me you don't love me, and I'll— I'll never ask you again. We'll go back to normal. I can't lose you, but I'll walk away from this. I'll go back to Kate and see if she's having a baby. I'll take care of her but I'll always love you." Derek blinked rapidly, trying to make his tears go away. "Tell me, and you can go be with Ian and we never have to talk about this again. Tell me you don't love me."

"Dere—"

" _Tell me!_ "

"Don't do this."

"Tell me you don't love me, Stiles."

"Der—"

" _Tell me!_ "

"I ca—"

"Goddammit, Stiles, _tell me you don't love me!_ "

"I can't love you, Derek!" He screamed, his throat constricting, closing up at the words, like his body didn't want them to come out of his mouth. "I can't love you! We could have had something! It would have been the best thing to fucking happen to us!" Fat, hot tears were making tracks down his face, but he pressed on. "I would have been the best thing to happen to you, Derek! I would have given you _everything_ if you'd asked."

He shoved Derek backwards, out of his face, out of his life.

"But you fucked this up, Derek! Not me, you! You got someone pregnant! You got her _pregnant,_ Derek! How am I supposed to deal with that?!" He kept pushing, but Derek wasn't budging. He was like a rock, a wall. Standing there and taking it. "You're a sophomore in college, I'm a freshman. I have my whole life ahead of me. I can't be with you and help raise some kid that will always remind me of the time you didn't love me!"

He was hitting Derek now, balling his fists in his shirt and sobbing freely.

"So don't tell me I don't love you," he choked. "I _can't_ love you, Derek. I'm not strong enough."

By the end of his speech he was a sobbing mess and Derek pulled him into a hug, tucking Stiles' head under his chin, letting Stiles breath in and out. He was whispering to Stiles that _it was okay,_ he would be fine. But it wasn't okay and he wouldn't be fine. He would be horrible. After this Stiles had no intention of looking Derek in the face ever again.

The silence was ambiguous, Stiles was unsure what it meant. Was this the end of a friendship or the severing of what could be before it had a chance to happen?

"We need some time apart." The announcement came out of left field, locking Stiles in his place, his joints unwilling to move.

"Derek, what?"

"We need some time apart." He coughed into the crown of Stiles' head, snot and tears and regret and anger building up in his throat, choking him up. "I have to learn to live without you."

Stiles hated the idea. It sliced his heart open with an intense precision, cutting close to the life line that Derek personified. But Derek wasn't wrong, he was on the beam.

Stiles needed time to develop himself without Derek as his foundation. To do so would be tantamount to yanking his heart out of his chest as a whole. But it was a necessary evil. It wouldn't be a clean break, but it would be a prerequisite to reconstruct their relationship, _friendship._

"Okay," he mumbled, breathing in the stagnant air, suffocating himself with the words and emotions and protests he felt rising up, ready to spill out, a direct line from his broken heart to Derek's ears. "I'll get my things in the morning, I'll go to Ally's."

Derek didn't speak, just nodded. Solidifying their decision.

They stood there in the middle of an empty parking lot, void of any words. Both of them empty and raw with emotions. The only sound in the air was both of their poorly concealed sniffles. He just wanted Derek to hold him. Not Derek, the guy he'd given his heart to, but Derek, his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now this is the hard part. I was so excited to share this with you guys that I just updated a chapter a day, seeing as I had 37K written. Now all 37K is up and I'm starting fresh in the morning. Updates won't be slow, but they won't be everyday. *hides* don't hate me, it sucks for me too. Good thing is, all the positive feedback fuels my fire to write and I have the plot lines set up, all I have to do is write. But therein lies the difficult part. Anyhow, like I said, (typed?) updates won't be as often, but I only plan on this being roughly 5 more chapters, and I write fairly quickly. XOXO.
> 
> Tell me what'cha think! I love discussing the characters with you guys.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek, this is a filler Chapter. I don't even like it, I want to get to the juicy part, but it needs to happen, I guess. Okay, I promised no angst... and it's really not angsty, not really. BUT if this is considered angst, my apologies. It's getting better. By the end of the chapter you'll be smiling and happy, hopefully because the boys are doing great. 
> 
> I appreciate every kind comment and kudo from each and every one of you. It's weird because I don't have nearly as many kudos on this story as the last one, but my comments are through the roof and I love talking to you guys, and knowing you enjoy reading what I write. It means the world, you have no idea.
> 
> Read the end notes for a summary of what's next!

"Move in with us." Allison was sitting across from Stiles, stirring her tea, and staring right at Stiles. He'd been there for hours. She'd been looking at him silently, not saying a word, since he walked in the door and told her what had transpired the night before. From the kiss to the pregnancy test to the dinner to the fight to the hotel room with Ian where the both of them cried out their sorrows over a bottle of wine and a box of Kleenex. She gasped and shook her head and patted Stiles' arm at the appropriate moments, only commenting when necessary. Stiles appreciated her lack of judgement and forced opinions. 

Derek all but dragged Kate out of the restaurant. Stiles almost felt bad, almost. What Derek had said in the parking lot made it's way to the front of Stiles' mind. _She's a liar._ Liar or not, Stiles doubted the girl would go as far as faking a pregnancy test.

What did she have to gain? Derek's parents had money, but if Derek got someone pregnant they'd make him support his own responsibilities, and all the photography gigs Derek'd picked up in the past paid shitty. Glamorous for the time being, but not near enough to pay for a baby. 

Stiles shook the idea out of his head, that was crazy. Faking a pregnancy was something you only saw in movies. He mind was just trying to find loopholes, find a reason to get back to Derek. He was looking for a way out of this stupid situation he'd agreed to. Time apart? Why did Stiles ever think that was a good idea?

_Whoever said that distance brings you closer, they must not have known, when you're out of sight, you're out of mind and all alone._

Now was not the time for Stiles' brain to queue a line-up of sad songs.

He was supposed to be taking his first steps in living a life without Derek for a while. He'd had Allison schedule a time for him to come pick up his things, because he was a coward and he didn't want to talk to Derek just yet.

Ian was a gentleman, walking him to Allison's door this morning, pecking him on the cheek in what felt like a friendly manner, a sharp contrast from their budding intimate touches. It was nice. They talked last night, _really_ talked.

"I went to see Paul today," Ian mumbled into the pillow his face was smooshed into. He was shirtless, not of Stiles' doing, but because he'd spilled red wine down the front of his shirt. Stiles wasn't the only clumsy one in his repertoire of friends. "I cried."

"What did you say to him? What did he say to you?"

"I told him that I missed him."

"I can see how that would be upsetting, but—"

"He said he moved on, and that I should too." Stiles stripped down to his boxers and slid under the cover, wiping away the tears that had betrayed Ian's nonchalant face. "He said he didn't miss me."

"Ian, you don't belie—"

"It doesn't matter what I believe, those were his words:" Ian's lip curled, reliving what Stiles figured what the cruel gesture Paul had made while relaying the words to Ian, " _I don't miss you._ "

Stiles stretched out his palms in Ian's hair, fingering the strands while Ian cried and rambled and spilled his feelings to Stiles. It didn't hurt, it felt good, being there for someone else. He was the rock, the solid constant for Ian at the moment, something Ian could count on not to change. 

Stiles quieted himself, letting Ian get if off his chest, letting him fill the room with sobs and sadnes tinged with anger. He let him breathe, like he'd let Stiles breathe. He let him cuddle into Stiles, let himself shrink up, be the little spoon. 

All things considered, Stiles had fantasized about Ian and himself sharing a hotel room, maybe after his feelings for Derek subsided. He imagined them fucking, slow and patient and free of the things, the people, tying them down. He never thought of it like this. He never thought that he'd end up with Ian in his arms, his hand tangled in his hair, Ian's tears hitting his chest. He didn't picture his other hand stroking Ian's back, his lips whispering apologies and reassurances while trying to hold back his own tears. He never dreamed that he'd be with Ian, the both of them breaking themselves down, on the eve of building themselves up again.

He liked the reality better than the fantasy.

 

"Stiles."

Stiles shook his head, clearing out the memory. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

"Move in with us." She took another drinking, licking her lips and catching a drop that had missed her mouth.

"In the dorm? A couple days, maybe. But the campus would notice."

"I don't know, you have soft features. A wig here, some heels there, you could pull it off."

"You're so funny. Look, I'm laughing. Ha ha ha."

"Plus, Sc—"

"Not only do I have manly features, sister," he squinted his eyes in a glare. "but also, Kimmy Jin can't stand to be around me. She's still mad about the baking soda in the toothpaste. I thought it was priceless."

Allison raised an eyebrow at him, and Stiles wishes people would keep their eyebrows under control, he was so done with the hairy scrutiny.

"What?"

"Are you done? Can I talk now?"

Stiles rolled his eyes, folding the napkin in his hands. "No need for the dramatics, you sound like Peter."

Allison ignored his jab. "Scott got us an apartment."

Stiles nearly jumped out of his chair. "What?!"

She smiled, taking a set of keys out from the purse in her lap. "I got the keys today."

"That's awesome, Ally." He reached over the table and wrapped her in a hug, kissing the side of her head and poking the dimple in her left cheek before sitting down. "Now I feel like shit for raining on your parade."

She shook her head, he hair falling around her shoulders, reminding Stiles of when she was a little girl. _She's all grown up._

"No! No, you're my brother, I want to be here when you need me. Don't worry about it."

"I'm definitely not moving in with you guys though. I can sleep under a bridge. I don't mind being homeless."

She quirked her head. "Why don't you want to stay with us?"

Stiles drummed his fingers on the table top. "Think about it, Ally. _Christening._ "

Her head fell back as she laughed.

"It's not funny! I'm not listening to my best friend defile my baby sister."

"I'm older than you, Stiles."

"I'm taller."

"I have bigger boobs."

"Oh girl, I know you did not just hate on my A-cups."

She giggled at Stiles' Z-snap.

She straightened up in her chair, wrapping her hair in a pony tail. "I'm serious, move in with us. It'll only be for a little while. Scott won't mind." Allison dropped her hand over Stiles'. "Let me be here for you, Stiles."

Stiles nodded his head, accepting her offer, meeting her grin, and flicking her on the nose to lighten the moment. 

"Okay, but where am I going to sleep? I'm not sleeping on the couch if you're just going to have sex on it when I'm gone."

"Mom and dad and Melissa are paying for it, there's an extra room."

"Why would they buy you a two bedroom apartment if you two are the only ones living in it?"

"Like I said, _dad's_ paying for it."

"He's still in denial?"

Allison snorted, close to choking on her tea. 

"He still thinks we sleep in seperate rooms."

Stiles laughed. "Ah, daddio. Gotta love 'em."

Allison raised her teacup to clink it with Stiles'. "Amen to that."

"But seriously. No sex where I lay my head."

She winked at him, smiling into her cup. 

"I'll see what I can do."

 

 /////

"You have to go in sometime, love." 

Stiles was sitting in his Jeep like a coward. He was outside his and Derek's apartment. He'd picked up Ian for reasons. Okay, because Ian was the only one free and kind enough to offer. Allison and Scott didn't want to get in the middle of it and Boyd was Derek's friend. Isaac had  conveniently sent all of Scott and Stiles' calls to voicemail around the time Allison had gotten back from class with Danny. _Sorry I can't get to the phone right now, leave a message after the beep._ Stiles would remember that when he needed to borrow some detanging shampoo that Lydia'd been making him buy online since the ninth grade. _We'll see how you manage your curls then, Isaac Lahey._

Allison had only been nice enough to make the calls back and forth to Derek, passing the info on to Stiles. Derek had said three would be a good time. He'd be out of class and he'd be able to help Stiles pack up what he'd need for the time he'd be gone. Stiles wanted to avoid that shitfest by a mile, so he showed up and two to get clothes and toiletries.

But Derek was a lying liar who lies and his Camaro was still in the driveway instead of out and about around campus. Fuckity fuck _fuck._

"I can buy all new clothes. I might take Ally up on her crossdressing offer, we wear the same size. That'll work," he put the car in gear, "let's go."

"Stiles." To be fair, Stiles only put the car back in park because Ian's scolding voice would cause an accident. Sexy asshole. "You owe him more than that. Go in there, talk it out. Decide how long you need to be gone. I know you don't want this to be permanent. If you avoid him altogether, nothing will get fixed."

"The whole point of this is to be apart."

"No, it's to learn to live without eachother."

"Are you making a point or just repeating everything I'm saying."

Ian grabbed his hands off the steering wheel, stilling them. "I'm telling you that's a load of bullshit and it won't work."

"You couldn't have said this earlier?"

"You two don't need to learn to live without one another, look what happened last time. You need to learn how to be just friends."

"We _were_ jus—"

"Like normal peole are just friends. You and Derek were never just friends."

Stiles sighed, removing his hands from Ian's and opening the driver's side door. 

"Do you ever get tired of being right?"

"Not really."

 

 

 

/////

Stiles let himself into the apartment. Ian choose to stay in the car, he really did only come for emotional support. Stiles wasn't taking any furniture, just clothes. The house was quiet, eerily so. Maybe Derek had left with someone. Stiles rushed to his room, taking the opprotunity for what it was worth. Yeah, he needed to sit down and talk with Derek, but if he could put if off for one more day, that'd be awesome. 

He opened the door to Derek sitting on his bed. 

"Oh," he mumbled. "Hey. I didn't know you'd be here."

Derek was sitting cross-legged on his bed, thumbing through a picture album Stiles had hidden under his bed. 

Derek looked up at Stiles through his lashes, his head bent, taking in the pictures.

"My car's outside, Stiles."

He didn't say it with any snark. There was no harshness in his tone. Just a _duh_ hidden in the words somewhere.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious."

He carefully walked over, tentatively sitting down by Derek when he didn't protest. 

"Where's Kate?"

Derek shrugged, still not looking up, still letting his eyes roam over pages and pages of pictures. 

"She left."

Stiles' heart sped up, she left? Was she gone for good? Was it a false pregnancy? Did they have hope? Could they _be_ something?

He tried to act cool, swallowing multiple times before speaking, trying to control his voice. "Why?"

"I told her to take a paternity test or get out. She got mad and left."

"Is she coming back?"

Derek shrugged again, not revealing anything to Stiles. "I threw some swabs in her bag, she knows what she has to do if she wants to come back."

" _Derek—_ "

Derek dropped the book on the bed, turning his head up sharply at Stiles. 

"She ruined everything for me, Stiles. Why would I want to be with her?"

He rached to put his hand on Dereks forearm, to calm him down, but he stopped halfway, meeting Derek's eyes, apologizing.

"If she's pregnant—"

Derek cut him off. "She is pregnant."

The color drained from Stiles' face, he stopped breathing.

"S- She is?" He stuttered, trying to find his words. 

"She is. I took her to the doctor this morning. She's four weeks along."

Derek looked like his world had been shattered. Stiles shared the sentiment. This changed everything. It took the what-ifs out of the equation. This set things in stone. Derek was going to have a family. He sat back, his mouth open, words on his lips, but none coming out.

"Stiles."

Stiles shook his head, this could be a good thing. This could be what both of them needed, leverage. A pull to keep them in line, keep them apart for good. Romantically. Sitting here with Derek, his face long and sad, and Stiles not being able to do anything about it. He knew that he couldn't stay away for long. He needed to be Derek's friend. If he coldn't have him, he at least needed that.

"Congratulations. I'm happy for you." He wasn't, for the record. 

"Stiles, _no._ I'm making her get a test, I want to know if it's mine."

"If it isn't? What does that mean for us, Derek?" Derek opened and shut his mouth. "I love you, more than a friend, more than a lover. No, that word sounds weird. Let me change that. _Don't laugh at me._ " 

The air felt lighter, easier to breathe in. 

"But we have to learn how to be just friends," he said, repeating Ian's words. "I don't want to, but we need it." 

Derek picked up the album once more, trying not to meet Stiles' eyes. 

Stiles put his hand over the pages, distorting Derek's view and forcing him to look at Stiles.

"If we can be friends now, maybe later we can be more."

"By more—"

"Yes, Derek. I mean _more._ "

"But you just said—"

"I said we need to be apart. And we do. It's not healthy, Derek. I don't want you to hurt yourself if I leave. If we were in a relationship and you pissed me off and I stormed out, how would I know you'd be safe from yourself?"

"I wouldn't do anything stupid."

Stiles ignored him, pressed on, kept talking. He needed to lay all the cards on the table. "I need to know if we can _be_ just friends. If we're, uh, together later on, I need to know we can revert back to something normal if anything goes wrong. When I left that night, I cried myself to sleep every night I wasn't with you. We made up, but I didn't know if we were okay. I didn't know how to explain myself to you. I was scared you'd never want to talk to me again when I finally came home."

" _Baby..._ " he pleaded. Stiles wasn't sure if was for him to stop or to let Derek explain.

Stiles silenced Derek with a finger to his lips, lips he wanted to kiss. Lips he _wanted_ to kiss him. Lips he wanted to hear certain words out of. Lips that belong to the man he wanted to be with. 

" _Shh,_ Derek. I know Stacia taught you not to interrupt people."

He lifted his finger, shivering when Derek pressed a kiss to his digit at the last second, right before he pulled it away. 

"I have to learn to be okay by myself. It's always been _StilesandDerek_. I need to know how to be Stiles. And I want you to have a chance to be Derek."

Derek was blinking, blinking back tears and words and feelings. "What if you don't like that Derek?"

How bad had Stiles broken him? How had Derek lost faith in himself, faith in Stiles, so much so that Derek thought he could ever be someone that Stiles would love?

"Derek, how could you think that? You're my best friend."

Derek wrung his hands around the photo album, averting his gaze, studying and nitpicking at Stiles' bedsheet.

Stiles picked up the book from Derek's hands, slipping it into his lap. He flipped to the page he was looking for, an old photo of the two of them a few years back.

"Look at this picture, Derek." Derek glanced at it and looked away. Stiles moved the book in his view. "Look. Look at us." 

It was a photo that Lydia had snapped with one of Derek's fancy cameras that she found in a box. Stiles was a about to be a senior in high school and Derek was a week away from starting his first year of college. Stiles was tailing Derek, moving things from where he set them, organizing his place for him the way Stiles thought it should be. 

Derek was getting frusterated, playfully so. He threatened Stiles, telling him if he rearanged one more thing, he was coming after him. Because Stiles prided himself with an amusing level of immaturity, he moved a coaster two inches to the left. Derek took off, chasing Stiles around the house. Stiles smiled at how easy things used to be, how blind he was. He weaved around Allison and Lydia, bumping into Scott and Jackson and tripping over boxes until Boyd caught him, holding him captive for Derek. 

Derek slung Stiles over his should and neither one of them noticed when Lydia fished out Derek's camera and turned it on. Derek was spinning him around, laughing at Stiles' kicking and screaming antics. The picture was snapped after Stiles got away for the first time and Derek caught him around the torso and lifted him up. It used to be one of Stiles' favorite pictures. It was a silly snapshot, but as he looked at it now, he could see the love between them. He was lifted higher than Derek, looking down at him and Derek was looking up at him, smiling. 

"Does that look like I wouldn't love you?"

He flipped to another page.

"Here. Halloween. You took me to my first party in the ninth grade and dragged me home when I was too wasted to walk three blocks by myself. Look at how you're looking at me, look at how much you care about me. Why wouldn't I want to be friends with someone that cares that much."

Another page.

"Peter's wedding when I fell into the cake and you cleaned me up while everyone was laughing."

Next page.

"When you wrecked the Camaro and Allison got a picture just before you swerved off the road. _With me on the hood._ "

Derek was grinning now, a faint smile, but it was a start. "You and your stupid ideas."

"Let's start over." He said. He closed the book. "You and me, let's start this from the beginning." 

Derek didn't understand, he furrowed his brows at Stiles.

"Don't Jonas brow me, it makes sense." He picked up Derek's hand and shook it. "I'm Stiles. It's nice to meet you."

Derek scrunched his face up, still not following Stiles completely, but following along. "I'm Derek."

"It's nice to meet you, Derek. Do you want to hang out some time?"

"I tho—"

Stiles huffed. "I want to know you. I want to know your favorite movie because we watched it together, as friends. Not because we cuddled on the couch as... whatever we were and saw a preview for it on HBO.

"I want you to know what kind of ice cream I like because you took me out for dinner and we walked past TCBY and I begged you to stop.

"I just want to get to know who you are without me, Der. I'm not leaving forever."

Derek nodded, understanding. "Okay. Okay, I can do that."

"Good." Stiles stood up, pulling Derek up with him. "Now help me get some clothes together, kind stranger."

"Alright, can I go through your underwear drawer?"

Stiles mock gasped and drew his hand to his chest. 

"What kind of girl do you take me for?!"

 

 /////

Stiles was sorting through CDs, he'd moved clothes to Scott and Allison's. Wow, that sounded weird, they had their own place. His sister was in a commited relationship and had an apartment with her boyfriend. He mummed to himself and kept sorting. 

He tried to leave Allison and Scott with as much alone time as he couls manage, despite their bellyaching that having Stiles around wasn't an inconvenience.

He spent a lot of his time at Ian's. He wasn't coping too well after Valentine's Day. It was odd for Stiles to see Ian without his signature composure, but he didn't mind peeling Ian off the floor when he ran into Paul or when Nina left voice messages, explaining to Ian that Paul was just hurt he was with somebody else. It was all a mess that Stiles had help create, so he didn't mind picking it up.

It's been two weeks since he's _seen_ Derek. He talked to him on the phone several times, each of those conversations only lasting half an hour before they got uncomfortable. Stiles would ask Derek how his day went, and Derek would tell him all about the new projects he was assigned and how he wished Stiles was there to help him write those goddamn papers. ( _It's a photography class. I don't want to write shit down, I want to take pictures._ ) 

Derek didn't talk about Kate and Stiles didn't ask. Instead Stiles talked about his new found love for Frito Pie, because it was all Stiles, Scott and Allison could afford at the moment. He also discussed prompts with Derek that he'd been appointed in his Creative Writing class. 

"I didn't know you were taking Creative Writing this semester."

Stiles had been laying in bed at the time, tucked in and ready to go to sleep before Derek called. 

"I uh, I'm not. I signed up for this course that Professor Spector was teaching. Allison talked me into it."

Derek was quiet on the other end of the phone. "That's good. I'm glad that you're getting out and trying new things." 

Derek didn't sound happy, but he sounded happy for Stiles. He sounded like he was proud that Stiles was branching out, doing something he loved. And Stiles was happy as well, it was a step forward. 

Derek told him that he had signed up for a trip, it was two weeks after Easter. He and nine other people were going to Buenes Aires to take in the scenery.

Instead of Derek and Stiles sitting around after class and watching Buffy or Suits, they were branching. They were _trying_. They were working on themselves. 

Someone knocked on Stiles' door and he yelled for them to come in. It was Laura.

Stiles tossed his CDs to the side. "If you came here to beat me up, I'm telling your mom on you."

Stiles and Derek's family had been confused as to what was going on between their sons. Stiles didn't want to treat this like a divorce, because he had every intention of going back to Derek, being something to him even if it ended up being just friends. He didn't want to rock the boat and have everyone choose sides, only for it to be awkward later. 

But Laura? Laura had left several particularly _nasty_ messages on Stiles' phone. Her words were slurred and sloppy, so Stiles assumed she was drunk. Still, Stiles wasn't ashamed to say he was scared of Laura. She was not someone you wanted to fuck with, especially when it came to her baby brother. 

Laura picked up a CD and chucked it at him, missing his head by half an inch. "I came to apologize, loser."

"The great and mighty Laura hale apologizing? Color me shocked."

She sat on the bed and socked him in the upper arm. _Still hits like a man,_ noted.

"Don't push it."

"Why'd you come here, Laura?"

"You weren't answering my phone calls."

"You were cussing me out."

"You broke my brother's heart."

"He broke mine, too."

She nodded. "That's fair."

"I know you didn't come her to agree with me, what do you really want?"

She examined her nails before smirking at Stiles. "We're gonna figure that bitch out."

"What bitch?" Stiles tried to think of anyone who Laura would have a problem with, it dawned on him. He stood up from the bed, profusely shaking his head. "No. Absolutely not, Laura. I'm not looking up shit about Kate. That's Derek's problem."

Laura stood up beside him, crowding his space. "Bullshit. You know Derek will push it off until the last moment. He told her to take a paternity test and she still hasn't given him the results and you two are still carrying on with whatever the fuck it is you're doing."

Stiles took the defensive. "This is the best thing for the both of us, Laura. We're to co-dependent. We—"

She threw her hands in the air, like her brother and uncle, always one for the dramatics. "Who cares? It's never been a problem, Stiles. No one cares how far you two are up each other's ass! You're there for each other, that's all anyone wants from you two. God forbid you let anyone else help you. Now you came up with this stupid plan to get over each other for two seconds before going back in the same directtion you just came from!"

"Laura, that's not—"

"I'm talking, be _quiet._ " Stiles snapped his mouth shut. "You think Derek wants to hear that _maybe_ you can be with him in the future? Do you believe that yourself? Do you honestly believe the crock of shit you're selling?"

Stiles was getting angry, Laura was being unfair. This was the only way Stiles knew how to fix this. This wasn't even his idea in the first place, but he went along with it, supported it for Derek's sake and Laura was yelling at him. He was getting damn tired of Hales yelling at him for no goddamn reason.

"Why don't you go yell at Derek? I'm not in the mood for this right now Laura."

He turned to walk out of his room when Laura pulled him back by the shoulder and shoved him against the door. 

"You're gonna listen, Stiles. You're gonna listen to someone who actually knows what the fuck they're talking about."

Stiles tried to let up but Laura was strong, she held him there with one hand against his chest and the other beside his head. 

"You and Derek? That's forever shit. You think you can take a break and go back and you won't fall in love all over again? You want to be a new person before you go back? You want to branch out? Go ahead. But you're gonna fall faster and harder than before." 

She was close to his face, practically breathing the words into him, making them stick, making them hurt. 

"Why can't you work through it? Why can't you work on yourselves while you're together?"

"Kate is pregnant."

"What if it's not Derek's? How much of a dumbass are the both of you going to feel for letting eachother slip through your hands for some tramp with baby-mama drama? I'm not letting that happen."

Stiles felt defeated. Derek wanted him to go away. Ian agreed. Allison agreed. Scott didn't want any part of it. Laura thought they were being childish. What did Stiles want? What would make him happy?

"Do you realy think she would do that? You think someone would be that cruel?"

Laura nodded, backing out of his space. "Derek's told me some things about Kate, things you'd never believe."

"And how would we find out if she was? She won't take the test, Laura. If it's his, Stacia would kill me for getting in the way of her having a grandkid."

She scoffed at him, and hey, it was a fair assumption. "You think mom would want anyone but you in her family? You think they haven't been waiting on the day you two get your shit together?"

"Stacia—"

"And why can't you be there for him if it is? It'd be hard, but don't you think he's worth it?"

"Of course he's worth it, but—"

"No," she said. "No buts. You've been friends for fifteen years and you're gonna leave him when he really needs you?"

"I can't raise a kid, Laura."

"And Derek can?"

"With Kate, he can. She'd be the mother, it'd be their responsibility."

"If you ever want to be with him, ever, all of his responsibilities will be yours. And yours, his."

"I'm a freshman, I don't know how to take care of a kid, Laura."

"Kate's a freshman."

Stiles pushed off the wall, upset. "But I'm not Kate, Laura! I'm not the one who's pregnant! I'm—"

"But you're the one in love with him, Stiles! You love him and that will always be enough!" She took up his sapce again, yelling in his face. "And if you think that's ever going to just disappear, you're both stupid!"

"Get out," he whispered, not willing to hear anything that she was saying, screaming anymore. He fucked up with Derek. He gets it. He knows it. He doesn't want to hear it anymore.

"Alright," she conceded. "I'll go."

She stalked to the door and turned around, no doubt wanting to get one last blow in before she left. 

"But Stiles, whether she's carrying his kid or not, he needs you right now. And this shit you're both doing right now, pretending you don't want to be together... it's hurting him and it's hurting you."

"I don't know what else you want me to do, Laura."

"I'm gonna find out about Kate." She tried to speak, to tell her to stop. Because if this was Derek's child, she was going to ruin her relationship with her brother and her future niece or nephew, but she continued, ignoring him. "You need to go home. You're stronger than him and he needs you, but he's scared. He's scared you don't want him with all the bagagge he's about to be carrying around."

She smiled at Stiles, letting him know she wasn't angry with him. "You're the only one who can convince him otherwise. He'll listen to you." 

She shut his door and a couple moments later Stiles heard a car start and pull away.

Well, _fuck._

 

 

_/////_

"Scotty!"

"Hey, Stiles." He set his backpack on the kitchen table before joining Stiles on the couch. "I thought you were at Ian's?"

Stiles paused the DVR. He was watching Suits because seriously, Gabriel Macht. "I was, Ally called me to pick her up, her car broke down this afternoon. She's in the shower."

"What? Is she okay? Why didn't she call me, dude?"

Stiles passed Scott the bag of Dorito's when he made grabby hands for them. "You were in class, man. Don't worry about it."

Scott talked around a mouthful of chips. "Sorry, she crashed your date, buddy."

Stiles made a face. "Close your mouth while you're chewing, Scott. And we aren't. Dating. We're just friends."

"Since when?"

"Since forever."

"Does it have anything to do with..." Scott made motions with his hands. "You know."

"Derek?" 

"Yeah."

"Nah, he's going through some shit, he just needs a friend."

Scott shrugged one shoulder and grabbed the remote. "Cool. The guys are coming over next week, you should bring him. I'll be friends with him. I'm an awesome friend."

Stiles laughed. "And modest too."

He jabbed Stiles in the rib with his elbow, smiling around another mouthful of chips. "You think I'm awesome, admit it."

"When you're not banging my baby sister, yeah."

" _Dawh,_ low blow man. Hey, does Ian have any sisters? I could go two for two."

"I better have walked in on the wrong part of the conversation."

Stiles turned around to see Allison walking through the hallway in a towel, brushing her wet hair. 

"I— We were—." Scott was blubbering, trying to swallow food and explain his way out of this at the same time. 

Because Stiles enjoyed to see people suffer, he said: "Scott was just asking if Ian had any siblings he could defile. You know how much joy that brings him."

Allison chuckled and kissed Scott on the cheek over the back of the couch, stealing a Dorito from his cheese covered fingers. "Just make sure she's hot. I don't want to lose my man to an ugly chick."

"Allison, I would _never_ —"

She came around and sat between the two of them, snuggling her wet hair into Scott's neck. "I'm just kidding, baby. Eat your food."

"Oh, okay."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Ever the eloquent," he mumbled under his breath. Clearly not low enough because Allison rammed her foot into his thigh when Scott wasn't looking.

"So what'd the repair guy say when you talked to him."

Allison sighed and nudged Scott's shoulder to change the station where he'd left it at Gossip Girl. _Ally was more of a Glee girl._ Her words, not his. 

"He's supposed to be towing it back now. He said I need new brakes, the old ones were locking up. It scared the hell out of me."

"How much is it going to cost?"

She groaned. "Too much. The brakes aren't that expensive, it's mostly the service charge. Scott, stop turning it back to Gossip Girl."

"It's a good show."

"You're not my boyfriend anymore."

"I wouldn't want to be with someone who prefers Glee over Gossip Girl."

"The divorce is final, than."

"I get the dog."

"Stiles is my brother, I get him."

"I feed him and take him for walks."

"I'm right here."

"We know," they chimed in unison.

"Anyway," Stiles retorted. "Why don't you ask Derek to come fix it. He's good with that sort of stuff."

Scott raised his brows and returned his gaze to the television. Allison stared at him blankly.

"What?"

"You want me to invite Derek over here? Derek? The same Derek you moved here to get away from? Derek Hale?"

Another eye roll. "I didn't come here to get away from him. I came here to give us space. And may I remind you that you invited me to stay here."

"I'm not saying you're not welcome, I'm saying I don't want it to be weird for the both of you. You haven't talked in three weeks."

"We talk every day."

"Since when?"

"He's my best friend, I'm not leaving him cold turkey. I'll call him right now, he should be out of class by now."

He reached for his phone on the coffee table, unlocking it and appreciating his wallpaper before scrolling to find Derek's phone number. Iron Man, bitch. Praise Robert Downey Jr.

"Wait." She snatched his phone. "Are you sure?"

He grabbed his phone, swatting her hands away when she tried to take it away again. "Ally, stop. It's fine."

"You might have talked to him, but it'll be different in person. You didn't break up because talking was the problem. It was touching. I can pay a service charge. I don't want you to see him and walk around whining and crying when he leaves."

Stiles glared. "We didn't _break up._ And I don't _cry."_

"You cry. Womanly tears. For hours."

"I'm calling him, shut up. Scott pause Gossip Girl."

"It's at the good part."

"It's for like five seconds, Chuck Bass will still be there when you unpause it."

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Too late, it's ringing."

Stiles ignored Allison's pointed glare.

"Hello?" Derek answered the phone. His voice was groggy and slow, like he just woke up.

"Oh shit, were you sleeping? I'm sorry, I'll call back later."

Derek was quick to answer, jumpy, not wanting Stiles to hang up. "No, ba—, Stiles. It's fine, what'd you need?"

Stiles huffed. "What if I just called to talk?"

He could feel Derek's smile through the phone, his tone picked up and he chuckled into Stiles' ear. "I'd be fine with that too."

Stiles flushed, because that was Derek's sexy voice. But let's be honest, what did Derek have that wasn't sexy? Nothing, that's what. "Um, but I really did need something. Well, not me. Ally. She needs something. From you."

"Okay, what is it?"

"Her car. She needs brakes put in, but the guys at the shop are charging an arm and an asshole to put 'em on. Can you do it?"

"An arm and an asshole, huh?" He laughed.

"You know what I meant."

"Sure, just give me the address. Is she home right now?"

"Yeah, she's right here."

Derek coughed, missing a beat and then replying. "You're there right now?"

"I am. But uh, I can leave if you want." Stiles's heart sped up and dropped and sped up again, he was all over the place. Did he make a mistake? Was it too soon? Did Derek not want to see him as much as he wanted to see Derek? Was he oversteping? "It's not a big deal. She just needs them done. If you don't want to see me yet, that's fine. I, I can go somewhere until you're done. I don't want her to wreck, y'know. Brotherly duty and all." He took another breath. "And I remeber you took shop in high school. I used to make fun of you in that damn wife beater." Yes, Stiles, think about Derek in a wife beater. Pop a willy in front of your sister. "And—"

" _Stiles._ "

"Yes."

Derek breathed into the phone, sending chills down Stiles' spine and, you know, other places. So much for time apart. "I can't wait to see you."

Stiles swallowed, not sure what context to take that in. He was an easily confused boy. He needed signals and signs. Was Derek hinting at something? Was he not? Was Stiles sad that he wasn't? What was the deal? Stiles needed details, information. 

"I'll tell her you'll be right over then."

Stiles hung up the phone before he could say anything stupid, because it was in his genetics to do so.

He texted Derek the address and Allison's make and model so he could pick up the brakes on his way over.

When he looked up, Scott and Allison were staring at him, mouths open. Stiles just shrugged and slapped Allison on the leg. 

"Go put some clothes on, you hussy. We're about to have company."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next:  
> Derek and Stiles see each other for the first time in three weeks!  
> A coffee date? Between who, I wonder? ;)  
> Plotting sisters.  
> The paternity of Kate's baby. DUN-DUN-DUN.  
> A kiss, maybe? We'll see!
> 
> Drop me a comment and tell me how YOU think the boys are coping or if they're spouting a bunch of BS and just need to GET TOGETHER ALREADY.
> 
> Tell me what'cha think! And thank you for being patient!


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